Out of the Mouth of Babes

 Mmmm mmmm mmmm.... Oatmeal cinnamon chip cookies sounded delicious.  Warm from the oven, all melty and soft tender cookie goodness.  YaUuuuummmmmmy!  It was right after lunch and I had a hankering for something sweet.  I figured I'd bake a half a batch and then give some to the neighbors.

I should warn you.  Cookies are not my friend.  We have tried and tried over the years, but we just plain ole don't get along well.  We are simply talking the art of baking here as the calories and what they do to my hips are a completely different post on a completely different blog for a completely different day.

No one asks me to bring cookies to the bake sale and I have a sneaky suspicion why.

Once when I was in high school and baked a batch of cookies, Peter, my little brother sat in his high chair, held out his pudgy little baby hand and firmly proclaimed, "Here, garbage."

Over the years I've baked various batches, some with more success than others and I came up with a number of possibilities for their failures:

• The ingredients were off because I licked the spoon and cooking is chemistry, right?
• I must have missed a minor ingredient 
• I used margarine instead of butter
• I was a tad short of flour
• The eggs were large, medium, small, round, oval, square, whatever
• Baking soda or baking powder - aren't they the same thing?
• The pan is old, too dark, has moisture between air layers, too thin, you name it
• Must have needed more "something"
• The oven heats "hot"
• The humidity is high (that's a new one I get to use!)

Cookies and I just don't get along

Well, today I used all the right ingredients. I mixed according to directions and never once licked the spoon. I used butter. I had enough flour, sugar and eggs. I used baking soda. I baked them at the correct temperature for exactly the correct amount of time. They should have been just fine. They should have been yummy and melty good.

I think perhaps Peter had it right all along. Oh, the wisdom that comes out of the mouth of babes.