Let Them Eat Cookies
Nancy ♦ December 15, 2011 ♦ 27 Comments
Usually on the weekend, I bake bread.
I like baking bread. Kneading the dough is very therapeutic. And the house smells fabulous. And of course the bread is delicious.
Unfortunately,sometimes I just don’t have time. Like this weekend.
But I threw together some blueberry muffins, so we had a few day’s worth of breakfasts ready. By Tuesday, though, they were gone. We were stuck with Cheerios.
“I’ll pick up some bread today,” offered my husband. Since he is a nice guy.
On Tuesday, Hubby went out to dinner with his brother. They also went shopping (again) at Cabela’s. But that’s okay with me, as long as he is not Christmas shopping for MY present at the big Gala of Guns.
So having the evening to myself, I went out after work. I tried out a Zumba class for the first time. (I’ll write about it eventually…as soon as my heart stops pounding.)
So I get home from Zumba, and find there is a package on the table.
Inside the box, was this:
You may have noticed that there was a note on the top of the box.
Obviously these cookies were a hit. The amount left in the box is also a clue.
I bake. My husband does not bake. So I don’t know if he was offering to help or just using the “royal we”.
When my husband got home from Pistol-Packing Paradise the first thing he said was, “Did you see my note?”
I’d been home for two hours, so I had recovered enough from Zumba to gasp, “Yup.”
“They’re really good,” he said. “Try one.”
It usually doesn’t take a lot to get me to try a cookie. But I am not a big fan of Italian almond cookies. Just a little too sweet for my taste. But I took one. (I am very polite.)
And as soon as I chose one, my husband was offended for the ones I didn’t choose. “Why did you choose that one? Don’t you like the other kind?” I guess he knows how sensitive cookies can be.
So I asked him why he would like to try making them.
“Because they were $10.00 a pound.”
He paid $10 a pound for cookies. When he usually goes to Ocean State Job Lot for snacks.
“Where did you get them?” I asked.
“The Italian bakery joint,” he said. “The one with the old lady.”
That narrows it down.
Wednesday morning. My usual routine. Shower, iron (I can’t wear anything not freshly pressed...hey, Freshly Pressed Decider – do you see my reference?), an inordinate amount of time on hair and makeup, and I finally go down to the kitchen for breakfast.
My husband is groggy, but he’s put the coffee on. Since he is a nice guy.
I open the bread box. It’s empty.
“Did you buy bread at the bakery?” I ask.
“No. Just cookies. Was I supposed to buy bread?”
Ouch! A light breakfast that day, I assume.
Forget the cookies – your bread looks divine!
Your husb and my husb are kindred spirits. I LOL’d!
I think you should send all your readers a nice loaf of bread. I’m drooling just from the picture.
Cookies ARE sensitive. That’s why I eat them ALL. To preserve feelings.
And what a kind-hearted soul you are!
Another great post. I am not a fan of the “royal we” or as my Dad would say “you got a mouse in your pocket?”
I’ve never heard your Dad’s saying…but I LOVE it!
Yes oh yes. Maybe you should try pinning a note to his pocket. Like little kids who need to have their new phone numbers pinned on.
I loved this post as:
1. I have also done Zumba (no longer, as am afraid of the haughty Zumba princessess in the front row)
2. My boyfriend is Italian, from New York, and also adores the Italian bakery cookies.
Every time we visit his mother she sends us home with a big box and says, shaking her finger “Don’t let Joey eat-a all the cookies”.
He always does. If you try making them, I hope you post the recipe!
i agree with kewsmith. a nice warm slice of bread for all your followers!!! i *may* be a little like your hubby. i become very sidetracked when sweets (especially cookies) are involved. ;o)
You are lucky there were any left. Although he probably left a few for research purposes. Cookies can be distracting. I have been know to go into a store for milk and came out with $50 of bakery stuff and NO milk! Let’s hope your Christmas gift isn’t coming from Cabela’s!
I knew somebody else’s husband must shop at Cabela’s all the time, I just didn’t know who it was — now I do. 🙂
I agree with the other commenters that your bread looks way better than those sensitive Italian cookies. Bake on, sister… and forgive your husband for not remembering to get the bread. That just makes us all the more treasured by them when they realize that their lives would come to a grinding halt if we weren’t there to remember things like bread … and laundry.
haha “the Royal we”… nice 🙂
May I please have some cookies after I finish my sandwich on your bread. Both sound much too good to resist!
The bread looks so yummy! Nonetheless, your hubby is a sweetie. You sure lucked out.
Babka? Looks like a delicious challah.
Same thing, Polish version.
I’m sure the sugar in the cookies gave your husband a touch of ADHD and that’s why he forgot the bread. That’s hilarious! I would love to come to your house and be your baker’s assistant. I also volunteer to be a taster! (Great post and title by the way)
Love your hubby stories. Unfortunately I can’t share mine: my hubby reads my blog….
LOL Your husband and I would get along. As long as I didn’t have to go to Cabela’s.
I love the royal we. Especially when I was a news reporter and my editors would be talking about how “we” should stake out someone’s house and how “we” should sift through someone’s garbage–when the “we” meant me.
I am not a big fan of Italian almond cookies, but that bread picture just made me drool all over my keyboard and now we need to send me some and by “we” I mean you.
Your bread makes me salivate a whole lot more than those cookies!
Good post. Made me laugh!
I make a Challah that looks exactly like your bread. It’s famous in my family.
Love the line about the bakery “with the old lady” “narrowing it down.” Too funny. Your sense of humor is so dry it makes me choke with laughter!
What bread? LOL
I’m in awe that you know how to make bread. Yeast terrifies me. When my hubby gets a new Cabelas catalog I know he will be deaf to the world for at least an hour.