Tag: Cookies

Baking Like a Grownup

My daughters don’t like when I treat them like children. They want me to see them as partners in our home, with an equal say in all decisions that affect them.  As fully grown, legally recognized adults, my children are trying to assert their independence.

By “independence” I mean they still want free housing, free food, clothing, entertainment, a car with full insurance provided, phones, no required house chores, yard chores, or responsibilities, they want their privacy respected while maintaining open access for themselves to all parts of the house at any time, and they have the nerve to expect….

I think I’m getting a little derailed here. What was I talking about?

Oh, right. Independence. The girls want the freedom to come and go as they please, and to treat dad like a painted backdrop in a high school play.

Anyone reading this blog already knows that I have clearly failed as a father. It’s too late to change their behaviors now. They will continue to live their lives right under our noses while at the same time pretending they have no parents. I know this is true because, for the most part, this is exactly how I treated my parents at the same age. I’m not proud of it, but I am acknowledging that lousy kids raise lousy kids.

Since I am desperate for attention because both of my children see me as little more than an extension of the furniture, it should come as no surprise that a couple weeks ago, when EM1 asked me if I would teach her how to bake homemade cookies, I jumped at the chance to interact with my child as something other than a bank ATM.

EM1 really likes a pumpkin spice cookie recipe that I found a few years ago. She wanted to know if I had enough fresh pumpkin from the garden to make some with her and teach her how to do them for herself. I said I did, and of course I would show her how.

On the Friday we agreed upon, I began pulling out pans and ingredients. I asked EM1 how many she wanted to make. She paused a moment, then told me that six dozen should be enough, but we should probably make a few extra in case some of them were bad.

Surprised, I asked her why she wanted to make so many. That was when she told me, “My pastor asked if people could bake some homemade goods and bring them to distribute to the church families since we haven’t been able to do group services. I told him that you could make cookies for everyone.”

Yup. My lovely daughter volunteered me to bake six dozen cookies for her church before she even thought to ask me. And because I was so starved for affection from my own kids, I dove headfirst right into her devious little plan. I wasn’t happy about her suckering me into what felt like a middle-school bake sale, where the teachers rope parents into helping by making the kids agree to it before mom and dad know it’s even coming.

EM1 defended herself by saying, “But I told them you make really good cookies.”

Which wasn’t really the point of my complaint, but I still enjoyed the compliment. Hey, I’m human.

I spent the next five hours measuring, sifting, stirring, mixing, shaping, baking and bagging pumpkin spice cookies. I made sure that EM1 did most of the grunt work. I figured this was her idea, so she didn’t get to sit on the couch eating test batches while I did the cooking. To my surprise, she actually did a pretty good job once we got the assembly line rolling. She was baking like a real grownup.

About halfway through the whole baking process, EM2 wandered into the kitchen, grabbed a cookie without asking, then asked, “Why are you baking with her? How come you never do this with me?”

I told her to grab an apron and a spoon, but she shook her head. “I don’t want to help, I want us to make Halloween cookies and decorate them, just the two of us. Hey! We should do that tomorrow!”

I told her I didn’t really want to spend another entire day of my weekend baking.

She said, “Okay. We’ll do Halloween cookies tomorrow.” Then she grabbed another pumpkin cookie from the cooling rack and disappeared.

Because I am … well, me, I spent all day Saturday making Halloween sugar cookies with EM2. In order to make sure I was being fair, EM2 insisted that we couldn’t just make a dozen or so cookies. Her sister got to make six dozen cookies, so I had to make six dozen more with her.

As I have demonstrated time and again, I have no real backbone to speak of, so once more, I spent my day measuring, sifting, stirring, etc. Only this time it took even longer since we had to make frosting and decorate each cookie after it was baked.

If it sounds like I’m complaining, it’s because I am. But I acknowledge that for two entire days, I was relevant to my kids. Maybe even important. Perhaps that was only because EM1 devised a devious plan to obtain baked goods, and EM2 was too jealous to see EM1 do anything that she couldn’t do as well, but I’ll take it. Sometimes even the worst intentions can result in something positive.

I spent time with my kids.

Now I just need to figure out what to do with all these damn cookies in the house.

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Scouting Out the Perfect Cookie

Tagalong

When I was still working in an office environment, it was about this time every year that I had to start hiding from co-workers. There were about a half dozen or so people in my office that had daughters in the Girl Scouts and every year they would ask me to buy cookies from their kids. I felt like every encounter with these parents resulted in an awkward conversation.

Co-worker: “Do you want to buy some cookies? My kid is in the Girl Scouts and gets free shoe laces if she sells the most boxes.”

Me: “Maybe. Let me think about it.”

Co-worker: “What’s to think about? They’re delicious. How many do you want?”

Me: “I’ll get back to you.”

Co-worker: “Here, just take the sign-up sheet. Write down what you want and then give it back to me.”

Me: “Uh, sure.”

Then I had to find a time that they were away from their desk and sneak the form back to them so they couldn’t question me about why I hadn’t ordered anything.

I used to receive group e-mails, get post-its on my desk, and find sign-up sheets lining the walls in the break room. While I do enjoy the cookies and have no objection to supporting a fund raiser for the Girl Scouts, it always meant having to choose which kid to buy from. I could either buy a box from six different people, or get several boxes from one scout and ignore the rest. Either way, someone was going to think that I was cheap, or just rude.

I used to think that this annual dance was a problem. I didn’t know real problems until I retired from that job and started working out of my home. Now, the cookies don’t come to me anymore. I have to go to them.

I can’t just wait for a cookie order form to fall into my lap, I have to get in my car and start cruising the shopping malls like a junkie trying to find his next fix. And it’s a lot harder than it looks.  When you don’t want cookies, there is a Girl Scout fund raising stand every six feet, but when you’re actively looking there isn’t anything but empty sidewalks for miles.

Last week, I decided to go look for some Tagalongs, because I’m human and who doesn’t want a block of peanut butter and chocolate every now and then? Those calorie bombs are delicious.

I pulled into a parking lot at a local grocery store and saw three kids covered in green outfits and merit badges with two adults hanging out on the sidewalk. They were all standing beside a silver van and loading a folding table into the vehicle.

I jumped out of my car and asked if they were still selling, but was told that they were done for the day and headed home. I suggested they could make one more sale before they left, but one of the parents said they were mostly sold out and what was left was already packed away.

I repeated my request slightly more emphatically, but it was met with equal resistance. I may have said something slightly inappropriate at that moment as I suddenly realized that two of the kids were crying and the third had simply turned around and run away through the parking lot. I decided it was time for me to leave.

Being arrested for verbally assaulting a pack of pre-teens is not exactly at the top of my to-do list.

I drove by the same location a few days later, hoping it would be a different group of people manning the cookie table, but I saw a couple familiar faces and decided to keep driving. I think one of the girls might have recognized me, but that could just be my own guilty conscience.

I found another cookie table a few miles from the first, but when I asked if they took credit cards, they told me they could only accept cash. I very politely explained that I did not carry cash and I would greatly appreciate it if they could please take a check or let me use my credit card. I was again forced to leave empty handed, fleeing a pack of crying children.

I really need to curb my use of profanity in the presence of minors.

Despite my failure to procure any cookies, I did learn three things this year during my hunt:

One) Thin mints are as addictive as crack and someone should be trying to find out exactly what is being baked into those things.

Two) Workplace fund raisers are only annoying until you realize that you actually want the items being sold.

And Three) Screaming at a 12-year old is counterproductive to reaching a desired outcome.

Okay, being a parent of two girls, I already knew that last one. Maybe I should clarify, screaming at someone else’s 12-year old is counterproductive. And, probably slightly illegal.

As of now, despite my searching, I have still not located any Girl Scout cookies for personal consumption. I am not sure that I will be able to find any before this year’s window closes, especially since I have been banned from the stands I have so far been able to locate.

I believe my only remaining option is to appeal to the kindness of my readers. So, if there is anyone out there reading this blog that has a daughter selling Girl Scout cookies, please send me an order form. I can make it worth your while.

And I promise not to yell at your kid.

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Enjoying Deep Dark Thoughts? Follow me on Facebook so you don’t miss a post. Just go to my page and click the “Like” button to receive weekly updates on my blog and other projects.

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