Pride Before Fail

Sometimes, I like to think I’m a second Donna Reed.

For you youngsters who don’t know, Donna Reed was an actress in the 1950s. She had a television show called The Donna Reed Show.

Very inventive, I know.

Donna Reed was the personification of the perfect homemaker. She could cook, she could keep the house sparkling, she could resolve problems, she could dress well, she could organize, she could sew, she could dance, what couldn’t Donna Reed do?

No, I’m not a Donna Reed at all.

I’m good at pretending I am. You’ll know all about the hand-knit cabled socks I gave my friend for Christmas; you’ve never heard about that lumpy white sweater with the mis-matched sleeves, still lurking in my top drawer.

Another example would be the cookies I made a couple of days ago. I made chocolate chip ginger cookies, courtesy of Joy the Baker. I love these cookies. They’re so easy, so good, and so brag-worthy. Thank you, Joy. In a cruel and uncertain world, a blog so dependably filled with scrumptiously crunchable goodies is a true blessing.

Anyways, I had places to go and people to meet (which is why I made the cookies in the first place), so I slipped the (beautiful, warm) cookies into a plastic bag, and went on my way.

It was at the bus stop when I realized that something had gone wrong. Peeping into the bag, I noticed that they looked a little . . . soft.

Uh-oh.

Perhaps I should have let them cool, first. The time they spent on the bus, sitting on my lap didn’t help at all. Soon, my beautiful cookies had been reduced to a mass of chewy brown stuff. I had no choice but to carry them around all day, smelling like ginger cookies, and hoping no one would ask about the extreme lumpiness of my bag.

FAIL.

But you know what?

Ginger cookies united in a sticky plastic bag taste exactly as amazing as ginger cookies divided into pretty little show-off-able rounds.

Plus, I don’t have to share.

I just ate six of them.

So there!

The End.

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