I’d been trying my best to eat healthier for the past few months. In the summer, with the easy outdoor living and abundance of fresh fruit and veggies everywhere you looked, it was fairly simple. As the seasons changed, I yearned for the comforts of fall. Cozy sweaters, a cheery fire and warm, spicy whiffs of goodness wafting from the oven.
I knew that it was certain folly for me to bake an entire batch of yummy treats. I simply didn’t have the self-control required to indulge in moderation. So I did the next best thing. I decided to experiment with a cookie recipe for the parent/child cooking class that I teach. To my amusement, the tantalizing aroma of the baking cinnamon, sugar and vanilla drew my family out of the spaces they had been squirreled away in like starving rats. Eager faces turned to disappointment as they saw the single portion serving I had made. There wasn’t even much to lick off of the spoon.
“Make some more!” they insisted, “And put chocolate in it this time!” With a sigh, I explained to my family that I didn’t think that my sweet tooth could handle the temptation of baked goods in the house. Of course they swore that they would eat it all so I didn’t have to worry about it. I had to explain to my sweet children that it wasn’t healthy for them to eat that much sugar either.
“You know,” said Shaun, “I could always take the extra in for my team at work.”
“Oh, that’s not a bad Idea. So, you need a couple dozen?” I asked thinking that should more than enough for his team of about six or eight, most of whom were young men.
“Well, I was thinking more about a hundred, hundred-fifty. I’d have to bring them in for the entire team, it’s only fair.” He answered.
One hundred cookies? Was that man completely insane? Why on earth did he think it was a good idea to go from supplying a few extras, to asking me to spend hours in the kitchen for a bunch of people I didn’t even know?
“I’m sorry” I said. “I can’t do that, it would take me forever. Do you even know how many dozen cookies that is? I can make it for the smaller team, maybe you can rotate who gets them. This simply isn’t possible for me.
My husband, of course, skipped past my ranting and focused on the one little question I hadn’t even realized I had thrown out there. “I don’t know…how many are in a dozen.”
“Twelve” I answered in disbelief at his response to my outburst.
“Just over eight and a half” he said.
At my confused look, he slowly said that 100 cookies is about eight and a half dozen. In my mind, that changed everything. Nine dozen cookies was a completely different story. I would be happy to bake those. And more importantly, get them out of the house. It’s a win-win.
Shaun knows me well. He just has to use the right Cookie Logic on me.
Did I mention that he takes them to work on his bike?
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