Cookie Fairy Fail
I’m one of two parent reps for my son’s second grade class at the hippie school. This basically involves attending monthly meetings and relaying any pertinent information to the other parents. I’m six months into the role and already drunk with power. “Relaying” has morphed into bossing and people refer to the e-mail I sent last month as the Bitch Slap of 2010. Well my friends, today my karma arrived and it was coated in a sugary, butter-drenched batter.
threatening encouraging people to bake a dozen sugar cookies for our upcoming Christmas Fair. The recipe looked easy enough: mix butter, sugar, eggs, flour, etc.; roll it out; cookie cutter; the end. Grand holiday feasts aside, I’m a fairly decent cook and was feeling so smug that I doubled the batch, thinking I’d make up for any slacker parents. I was the culinary equivalent of Glee’s Rachel Berry, minus the talent.
From the moment I turned on the oven it was a disaster. I briefly considered blaming the recipe, lack of granite countertops or non-silicone baking sheet, but none of these things mattered: a blind pygmy grandpa in Sub-Sahara Africa could easily out-bake me. Don’t believe me? I’ll let the pictures do the talking (getting a blog post out of this experience was the only silver lining).
My three-year-old’s reaction summed it up best: “Those aren’t cookies!” And she’s right. But these are:
And any future hippie school baking will rely on them. Heavily.