Wednesday, December 20, 2006
What Was In Those Cookies?
Hi, all, Bailey with you today. The Singing Christmas Tree was last weekend--and it was wonderful as usual. John's solo was great as always. He can really mesmerize folks. Yes, I'm proud of him!
Do you know right now we have no snow on the ground? Wow. And it's supposed to be dry again today. Maybe some snow tomorrow--a little--but the rest of the weekend also looks dry. We might just end up with a green Christmas!
On Sunday I baked. John loves my reindeer brownies. I also made him some pretzel rods dipped in caramel, dark chocolate and drizzled with white chocolate, then sprinkled with nuts, cookie crumbs, or mini M&Ms. Yum! I've got a recipe for fruit and nut cookies that is out of this world, courtesy of a Taste of Home cookbook. If you beg me enough, I'll give you a copy.
When my parents came for a visit last year, I was in the process of retrieving my measuring cups for the 1/2 cup of confectioners sugar needed for the fruit/nut cookies. Right when I was ready to dip out the white stuff the doorbell rang, and I ended up talking to our neighbors for half an hour. Meanwhile, Daddy was shuffling around in the kitchen, but he was gone when I went in there. I went to dip out the 10X sugar and saw that the 1/2 cup was already full. I didn't think a thing about it and added the extra 1/2 cup of 10X needed for the glaze. Daddy came in as I was drizzling the cookies. He shuffled around, eyes stabbing this way and that (I’m a messy cook). He picked up a baggie next to my elbow and got a weird look on his face. I offered him one of the cookies. He took four and a tall glass of milk. Came back for four more and another glass of milk a little later. He kept smacking his lips together.
"Taste a little funny."
I glanced over the recipe. "Might be the lemon juice." Maybe I'd put too much in or something.
Well, that night at dinner, Mom said Daddy wasn't feeling well, and they couldn't find his little baggie of GlycoLax.
"What does it look like?"
"White powdery stuff."
I shrugged and cleared the table, proudly setting the plate of the cookies in the center for all to enjoy with coffee. One bite warned me that what Dad said was true. Too much lemon. I only had two cookies. Mom had two. John had six. He didn't feel too good that night.
I'm sure you can figure out what happened. Apparently Mom had put the stuff in a baggie for easy packing. Daddy had brought it into the kitchen and used my measuring cup to determine how much he had and how he could divide it for the four days they were staying. Between my mess in the kitchen and his forgetfulness, he saw the empty 1/2 cup and started looking for the baggie, thinking his mind was playing tricks on him, but, of course, I'd already dumped the contents into the bowl for the glaze!
Oh, my. I'll never make cookies quite like that again.
Before I forget, I wanted you to know that I never did hear anything more from the guy who wanted me to take down my nativity scene. Yippee! I was seeing $$$ signs before my eyes when I called that lawyer friend of Hank's.
Love to all and Merry Christmas! Just watch what you put in your cookies.
Not to mention a few extra trots to the bathroom.
Mary, mom to many
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