There’s not enough butter in Wal-Mart to make all the recipes you’ve sent me. I knew you were good, cut I didn’t realize you were better than both Keebler and Toll-House. I will make you proud. I promise.
My cookies are due on Friday afternoon and I plan on practicing several recipes before deciding on the one I will submit. Pressure is mounting in my kitchen, while butter is mounting on my hips. This one cookie challenge will cause FringeMan and I to become lifetime members of Weight-Watchers. After all, somebody’s gotta taste these cookies!
It’s been snowing here since yesterday and my children couldn’t be happier. The FringeKids were both born in Maine and are thrilled when their fingers, toes, and nose are slightly frostbitten. They were outside from the first flake until way after dark last night.
Today was no better. From the moment we returned from church, they were outside rolling giant snow balls that resemble Frosty’s family. A few minutes ago, FringeKid came in proudly displaying a giant mound of snow carved in the shape of a manger. She insists baby Jesus is in it. On my porch sits an entire Manger scene made of snow. You never know, she could become a famous ice-sculpturist one day.
Anyway, my new rule for winter 2009/10:
NO EATING ANY SNOW THAT IS BELOW THE HEIGHT OF A DOG’S BUTT
Take a moment to digest that statement.