When OC comes home tonight he is apt to find me sweeter than usual. And stickier than usual, as well. I have a new mixer. The eject beaters button on my new mixer is where the power slide was on my old mixer, and vice versa. That means that tonight after I mixed up a batch of extra thick, dark chocolate brownies and attempted to remove the beaters from the machine, I instead splattered myself, the counter, the cupboards and the floor with chocolate batter.
I had chocolate measles; chocolate polka dot glasses; a chocolate striped shirt; chocolate counter tops; chocolate cupboards and chocolate Pergo. Thankfully, I have 12 foot ceilings. If there is any chocolate up there, I can’t see it. And if I can’t see it, it isn’t there.
My original plan was to offer OC brownies and Macadamia nut ice cream for dessert. Now I am thinking I might just give him a cupboard door to lick.
He Said: she cleaned it up nicely. If she hadn’t told me, I never would have noticed. Except for the smell. OK, the aroma. When did “smell” always have to be bad news? It’s the same nose. Pass the brownies, Hon.
Posted in food, he said-she said, humor, love
