I lost my voice. This is going on day two without a voice and it’s proving to be extremely difficult to parent without one. Like how do you respond to a toddler asking you a question from the next room? He keeps repeating it louder and louder waiting for a response. Then I run to the room and try to answer it using hand gestures or whispering as loudly as possible. Even though whispering is pretty painful in itself.
I remember the first time I ever had a scone. There is this little cafe in the shore town my parents live in and my mom and I popped in for a treat. I was probably 12. There were these beautiful rustic mounds of pastry deliciousness that I’ve never encountered before. But, I saw chocolate chunks and I had to take the chance.
Lemme see that cookie dough lemme lemme see that cookie dough. That’s how it goes, right?! In my mind, anyway 🙂 Because cookie dough is where it’s AT people. I may have a cookie dough problem. It’s fine, I can admit it. The first step is acknowledgement.
True story: I loathed anything jelly/jam related until I was in college. Then, one groggy morning after a night of er… college indulgence, I found myself brunching at a local diner with a packet of jam in my hand and a slice of toast in the other. I put the thinnest, nearly nonexistent layer across my toast. It snowballed.
Merry Christmas, everyone! Ok, so what?! I’m a day late, don’t be such a grinch. I made Jaryd run down the delivery man to check his truck for a package. Not just any package. It was THE package. The package that would make or break Christmas. The package that is all my kid’s been talking about for the last month.