Moderation is supposed to be a mark of mature character. I do not have a mature character. Obviously.
Case in point: these cookies.
For some time, my dad has been asking me to make chocolate chip cookies for him to take to work. I think this is a friend-making tactic…or a ploy to get on his boss’s good side. Not sure which…maybe both. But anyway, I had some free time and all the ingredients, and decided to “git ’er done,” as they say.
I started with my go-to chocolate chip cookie recipe…and…er, then things got a little out of control.
It started out okay. First I dumped in a few handfuls of semisweet chocolate chips. Pretty standard. But the whole time I was stirring them in, I kept glancing over my shoulder at the open cabinet—specifically, at the orange bag beckoning, Siren-like, from the middle shelf. Ah, the sweet call of Reese’s cups. Ohhh…why not? Out they came. I chopped and dumped and stirred them in. Goooood. And, yes, perhaps I should’ve stopped there, but then there was the other orange bag: the peanut-butter M&Ms. Those simply could not be ignored. In they went.
Result: diabetes in cookie form. SO worth it.
By the way, please not that it is simply way more fun to eat cookies out of a Cookie Monster/Elmo bowl. (Yes, I do have these in my house. Yes, it is because I bought them. Yes, that was intentional. Do not judge me.)
Case in point: these cookies.
For some time, my dad has been asking me to make chocolate chip cookies for him to take to work. I think this is a friend-making tactic…or a ploy to get on his boss’s good side. Not sure which…maybe both. But anyway, I had some free time and all the ingredients, and decided to “git ’er done,” as they say.
I started with my go-to chocolate chip cookie recipe…and…er, then things got a little out of control.
It started out okay. First I dumped in a few handfuls of semisweet chocolate chips. Pretty standard. But the whole time I was stirring them in, I kept glancing over my shoulder at the open cabinet—specifically, at the orange bag beckoning, Siren-like, from the middle shelf. Ah, the sweet call of Reese’s cups. Ohhh…why not? Out they came. I chopped and dumped and stirred them in. Goooood. And, yes, perhaps I should’ve stopped there, but then there was the other orange bag: the peanut-butter M&Ms. Those simply could not be ignored. In they went.
Result: diabetes in cookie form. SO worth it.
By the way, please not that it is simply way more fun to eat cookies out of a Cookie Monster/Elmo bowl. (Yes, I do have these in my house. Yes, it is because I bought them. Yes, that was intentional. Do not judge me.)
