I am sitting here listening to Big Mama and BooMama's Big Boo Cast and eating cookies from the cookie swap. The TV is on mute so that I can pay close attention to two of my favorite bloggers.
Hubs just came downstairs and said,"What are you doing? Watching TV and watching something on the computer?"
"Nope. I'm not watching TV. You can turn the channel."
"What are you watching on the computer?"
"I'm listening."
"To what?"
"Big Mama and BooMama."
"Who?"
"Big Mama and BooMama."
"So, who are they? Two talk show hosts?"
"No. Two bloggers."
"Ummm. 'kay."
(You bloggers out there are laughing out loud. You know you are!)
Back to the cookies...
I went to the cookie swap this afternoon. My neighbor invited me and, as it turns out, I knew half of the eight ladies invited. It's a small world. We were supposed to have a total of nine ladies, but one couldn't make it. She had some lame excuse that involved, oh, I don't know, labor of her third child.
Sheesh. People will do anything to get out of the kitchen!
So now I have 8 dozen cookies. Eight different kinds of cookies. Let me tell you that we do not need 8 dozen cookies in our house.
That would be 8 dozen.
In case you missed it.
My husband will not eat foreign baked goods. He would eat lead-based paint from China before he would eat the baked goods of a stranger. He is my Howard Hughes.
My daughter would eat all of the cookies, given the chance. Sadly, so would I, so I have decided to keep my neighbor's cookies and share the rest with the local fire station. All the cookies are so nicely packaged and delicious as well.
Well, maybe I'll hold on to the peanut butter cup cookies. Sorry, Mr. Fireman.
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6 comments:
I grew up in The House of Christmas Cookies. My Mom would routinely make 14-16 different kinds of cookies each Christmas and 4-5 kinds of candy. That's something like ... oh, 12 quazillion dozen cookies under one roof. (The mint chocolate brownies alone made almost eight dozen.) So believe me, I understand your problem.
The funny thing is, growing up with piles of cookies on every counter somehow cured me from ever wanting to indulge in cookies again. So now that I'm a Mom, I also make 8-12 different kinds of cookies each Christmas -- mostly to give away -- and I find myself eating very few.
But if you put homemade donuts in front of me, that's another story.
I feel your pain... I had a cookie swap at my house and now I have a zillion cookies. I *could* eat them all myself... in one sitting, too! But my J-Lo rear doesn't need them. The fire house is a good idea. I've also given them to people at work as well. People at work like me now.
OHMYGOSH--"He is my Howard Hughes" SO cracked me up that capitals can't do it justice.
Oh, if only we were talk show hosts! That would be a whole lot of nothing.
And I hear you on the cookies. It takes more than a fear of germs to scare me away from the sugar.
I am actually proud for your hubby that he has not been pulled into the interweb vortex. I mean, God love him for thinking we're talk show hosts. Unless, of course, all it takes to be a talk show host is a microphone and high-speed internet. In which case we're practically Oprah. :-)
Peanut Butter cup cookies? Yum! I'll take them off your hands if they prove too much of a temptation!
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