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I just finished baking vast quantities of oatmeal raisin cranberry cookies for Easter (and let me tell you, it was pure torture since today is Good Friday and I need to fast).
Now, the neighbor's two young kids love my cookies and apparently had requested that they be allowed to come over and have some the next time I made them. I didn't know this until my mother told me about halfway through baking them.
Well, the first batch was cool enough to eat, so I said they were more than welcome to come over. By sheer coincidence, the neighbor called about then.
Me: Hey, tell her if the kids are still up and want some cookies for desert, they can have some!
And well......they got nothing.
It seems that the youngest - the boy - was in serious trouble because he took a ball of very expensive yarn my mother had given to his mother as a Christmas present and CHOPPED IT TO BITS.
So, yeah, he's not getting any cookies. And the daughter had already brushed her teeth and was going to bed. She will probably being coming by tomorrow, but her brother is in the dog house and won't be allowed to have ANY cookies - mine or the ones the neighbor was baking while he was destroying the ball of yarn.
Now, the neighbor's two young kids love my cookies and apparently had requested that they be allowed to come over and have some the next time I made them. I didn't know this until my mother told me about halfway through baking them.
Well, the first batch was cool enough to eat, so I said they were more than welcome to come over. By sheer coincidence, the neighbor called about then.
Me: Hey, tell her if the kids are still up and want some cookies for desert, they can have some!
And well......they got nothing.
It seems that the youngest - the boy - was in serious trouble because he took a ball of very expensive yarn my mother had given to his mother as a Christmas present and CHOPPED IT TO BITS.
So, yeah, he's not getting any cookies. And the daughter had already brushed her teeth and was going to bed. She will probably being coming by tomorrow, but her brother is in the dog house and won't be allowed to have ANY cookies - mine or the ones the neighbor was baking while he was destroying the ball of yarn.
Where mah cookies!?!
was he thinking?! Good grief, even my maniac son knows well enough to keep his hands off my sewing and art supplies!
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