deadbeat baker

For a lark on a bored rainy Sunday Keaton and I decided to bake together.

I don’t know who likes baking together more… because, man, I get some serious enjoyment out of it.  I like “teaching” Keaton how things go together to make other things, and we enjoy experimenting with recipes by brainstorming what might taste good as additions.  This Sunday we kept it simple and made sugar cookies.  Partway through rolling out more dough-balls and baking the ones we’d already put on sheets, she wondered if adding cinnamon might be good.  “Let’s try it,” I said.  I let her work a liberal sprinkling into the remaining dough.  When we’d rolled a few more balls, Sharaun got home and suggested we use cookie-cutters to make some cool shapes.  Keaton chose hearts.

In the end, the hearts were too thin and burned in the time it took to cook the regular cookies.  Even that was OK, though.  Gave me a chance to explain about the beauty of trial and error.  Next time, we know that rolled-out cookie-cutter cookies are too thin and only need to bake for about half the time.  Live and learn.

Now if only the recipe hadn’t made five-thousand cookies.  Sharaun, the more diligent of us in the realm of calorie-limiting, has been steadfastly ignoring them.  Meanwhile I feel I have an imperative to consume them… I’m responsible for their existence, after all.  I don’t want to be a deadbeat baker.  I’ve got the Tupperware thing right next to me, a little glass of milk on the arm of the couch to my left, and I’m wondering how many times one person can lie to themselves about “Just one more.”

Gosh, I sound like a chick in this thing.  I’m gonna go smoke a cigarette and drink beer and watch sports.

Goodnight.

Also written on this day...

• flashlight bees - 2009
• wha happen? - 2007
• paging dudley do-right - 2006
• pigs: can't catch a frisbee - 2004