One of the perks of being a part-time SAHM before Arddun goes to preschool is the time we get to just hang out together and try things.
We were going to surprise Tony with cookies when he returned home from work this week (He’s working longer and longer hours, and has to deal with interesting staff. Not his favourite two things.) Decided to try out a new recipe from a book I’d bought cheap from Borders years ago (American measurements, with metric translations). Was supposed to be brown sugar cookies with a drizzle of lemony icing.
Wasn’t too sure about the recipe halfway through but because I’m no baking diva, and we were having too much fun, I pressed on.
Sadly, when we pulled the trays out 12 minutes later, everything was le splat. Just too much butter, methinks. And waaay too salty.
I was pretty disappointed. But Arddun just walked over, looked at the trays, said “Oh dear, Mummy!” and then patted me gently on the back. “Oh well. It’s okay. Nevermind. You alright?”
Prompting me to question who had the more adult response, really. What a crack up!