Husband and I had a brilliant idea to bake cookies for our neighbors and pass them out last night. We know a few of the units in our apartment building, and thought it would be a great chance to get to know them a little more. We bought the ingredients, carefully mixed everything together, tasted the yummy cookie dough, preheated the oven, busted out our NEW cookie sheets, placed the dough on the sheets, put them in the oven and set the timer! Sounds perfect right?
Well apparently our new cookie sheets hate us. I also think that they should NOT be called cookie sheets, they should be called “I burn anything you put on me sheets.” After about 2 minutes of the cookies being in the oven, Phil and I started to smell something burning…… I glanced around at my candles that were lit thinking…. What did I just set a blaze? Is our very, Very, VERY dry Christmas tree going up in flames? Is my hair on fire again (yes, I’ve lit my hair on fire before… that story will have to be told another time)? WAIT…. It couldn’t be the cookies…right? Phil and I went to the oven, peeked in and saw those burn-sheets devouring our cookies! The bottom of each cookie was already black, and the top was still dough! Needless to say, our neighbors are not getting cookies this year from us. I assume they would think we hate them if we ding-dong-ditched their doors, then when they opened the door found severely inedible cookies.
Phil and I threw the cookies away, lit a million candles to try and get the burnt smell out of our apartment, and laughed about it the rest of the night. Date night #9 didn’t work out as planned, but husband and I spent it together so it was all good in my book.