Unmerited Superlatives

“Mom, these are the BEST cookies ever!!!”

(Earnest testimonials heard from the son tonight after his little sister and I were baking chocolate chip cookies… with zero creative modifications from the mass-produced printed recipe on the Nestle tollhouse semi-sweet morsel bag.)

They were, of course, GOOD!  (one big ol’ hat tip to Nestle.)  Though, I have to admit, I wonder if they’ve changed the recipe a bit?  The hubby looked at the pile of cookies that ended up cooling on the countertop, and asked…

“Did you all eat a LOT of those cookies, or are you hiding more somewhere?”

Meaning by that, I think there were an awful lot of chocolate chips in each cookie, and not the biggest bowl of cookie batter.  Damn, they were good though!  Yum, yum, yum!!!  Still, we really didn’t eat that many.  It just made a small batch of cookies, near as I can tell.

I remember one year when the kids were smaller, we were at a fast food restaurant of all places, and believe it or not, Santa Claus was visiting there!  This particular Santa was making my daughter a bit shy, though to his credit, he was really trying his best.  He was asking if we’d made our Christmas cookies yet. He was asking if she like eating the finished cookies best or licking the bowl.  To which my daughter could only give a vacant stare.  I had made cookies, surely.  I don’t bake often, but I had done so.  But she had never shown an interest in joining in…and really, she was pretty young at this point.  And, selfishly, after mixing up the batter, with kids off playing at something else contentedly, often as not, I licked my OWN bowl, thank you very much!  (ha ha!)  Anyway, the comment haunted me for awhile, then went away.

Curiously tonight as I was typing about the son’s superlatives, it crashed back to memory.  And TONIGHT, the young lady still didn’t lick the bowl.  But I’ll tell you what, I was able to give that adorable little seven-year-old girl some specific, positive feedback for a job well-done!  She mixed up some mean cookie batter.  You know how the dough gets stiffer with every addition of flour?  Well she got a darned uniform bowl of batter on even the last addition.  I did a double check, but she was doing just fine.  She’s so cute…kind of gets all sheepish, but you can tell she’s beaming at the compliment.  Cute.  Kind of makes up for the little snafu that we had when she tried to break an egg.  She was all worried that I’d yell, but I just told her, you know, when you’re 30-something, if you’re still breaking an egg like that, we’ll have to have a conversation.  As it is, you’re doing just fine for a seven-year-old girl.  No problem.  You just go wash your hands.  We had some slightly aging brown sugar too, so packing my measuring cup sent a few sugar chunks flying.  We swept them up together.  She’s a cool kid.  But then I’ve mentioned that before, haven’t I?  <g>

More theological or heretical (you’ll have to be the judge!) blatherings another night soon.   For now, I’m just enjoying the delicious plate of cookies with my kids.  MMMMMMM!

(Maybe, they just ARE the best cookies ever?)

Peace! – Karla


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