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.