Monday, December 13, 2010

It's What I Call A Reality Check

I love my Hubby, however, the guy is a bit crazy about Christmas cookies. I don't want to say he has an addiction or anything, especially with my own white chocolate shake thing going on, but mine comes from someone else making it verses I'm the one that has to keep his addiction going.

He has dropped a few hints about the cookies and wondering when they will make an appearance. The boys looked at him with part awe and part horror that he would attempt to make it happen when they had recently got their heads handed to them when they tried it.

Time for a check up, from the neck up.

I made dude help me make cookies. More like I was folding 23 baskets of laundry when I whipped a bag of cookies at his head and told him order up.

He was not amused.

After that was done, I hefted a couple baskets worth over to the ironing board and plugged in the iron when I heard a pitiful comment of I guess you're a bit busy, huh?

Geez, ya think????

In a sad attempt to put it off, I set out butter on the counter top and told him it has to be at room temperature and went back to my slave labor ironing.

He decided to do the envelope cookie dough that just needs butter, egg, and vanilla. If that wasn't enough, he used the cookie press. I guess a spoon was just too much for this newbie. He even picked up frosting in a tube. I tried not to sprain my eyeballs from rolling them so much but there was only so much control I have over those things.

He read all the instructions and went to work. I had to book out of the room when he flung cookie dough all over the place because he didn't believe me when I said the butter needs to be room temperature. What would I know? I had to leave the room because I didn't quite trust myself to say anything. I can not tell you how many times over the years that he has said he just doesn't understand why I can't keep it all in the bowel.

Do tell.

He later apologize and said it's a lot harder than it looks. While I was able to keep that inner Cruella quiet, I was concern that it wouldn't be for long.

He then pulled out cookie sheets. Not any cookie sheets but one of those no burn sheets that are a piece of crap that someone gave me for a white elephant present at a Christmas party. And my Mom doesn't understand why I won't come to that family gathering any more. Anyhoo, the person informed me that everything she baked on it burned. She was not kidding because I too burned everything I baked on it. To be honest, I thought I got rid of those things years ago. Shows you what I know.

So picture my horror when those where the cookie sheets Hubs pulled out. I asked him why did he grabbed those and he said he didn't want to dirty up the other ones for all the cookies I was going to bake.

Let the record show that it is past midnight and I didn't bake a single cookie. All hail the queen!

I informed him that he shouldn't use those as they burn everything. He didn't believe me and proceeded to clean them off. Inner Cruella showed up and said gosh what would I know, I've only been doing this every.single.year for the last 16 years. I managed to grab my own face and dragged it out of the room.

He poked his head around the corner and asked what would I do if I run out of clean cookie sheets for the cookies I'm going to bake. Bless his heart, he walked right into that one.

Cruella I said, you clean them!

Knowing he was out-ranked, he just gave me a sheepish grin and pulled out the right cookie sheets. Then the cookie press was giving him fits. He ever so tenderly asked me what I thought was wrong with it after he replaced the batteries, read the instruction manual, and did some guy thing to it that almost broke it.

Not missing a beat in my ironing, I looked at it and said he filled the tube too full dough and shouldn't put in more than half. He said that was stupid and I said I totally agreed. He got all of it baked. And Hubs himself frosted it and decorated it.

My hero.

I would post a picture but he had the guys grab my camera so no evidence of this will ever be aired. Dagnabbit. But I'm feeling slightly smug that those sticks of butter are still sitting there waiting on me. I just did an epic amount of laundry, did all the ironing because a lot of the new clothes the boys picked out all.need.ironing - proof that I'm slightly brain dead AND cooked dinner, what more do they want from me?

If that doesn't beat all, Hubs just gave me the bow-chica-bow-wow look.
I suddenly have a desire to bake cookies. Lots and lots of cookies that will take hours to make.

Because I am so evil like that.

3 comments:

Julie said...

At least your hubby will attempt to do it on his own... Joe wouldn't in a million years! *lol*

http://scrapgrrl.com

Kerri said...

BBbaaaa ha ha ha ha ha!!

Kerri said...

Oops I sent it before I wrote the rest! Sheez. My brain has seen better days here too! Anywho. You mean they still make clothes that need to be ironed? YIKES! I'm strictly wash and wear baby.