A certain student-focused, land-grant, research university president recently gifted me a Valentine’s cookie decorating kit.
As you know (but how did he?), I specialize in kits. Give me a box of pre-portioned stuffs, and I am a happy crafter.
The box contained:
- Heart-shaped sugar cookies
- Vanilla frosting (discreetly labeled Duncan Hines)
- One pink knife (plastic)
- One red knife (plastic)
- Two types of sprinkle shakers
- Pink crinkle paper
- A note card from Flint Group about eating, tweeting, and repeating.
This is a project that is genuinely hard to screw up. Sure, you can bicker over who will use the red knife and who will use the pink knife, but other than that, it’s just: slather frosting, sprinkle sprinkles, eat.
Erma and I decided to give all of the yet-unbroken cookies to her preschool teachers. We lugged the box containing six cookies (three for Sigourney’s teachers; three for Erma’s teachers) to school this morning.
Erma’s teacher asked us if we could bring the cookies up to her office for her so that they wouldn’t be out in front of all the kids. Erma, however, was disappointed that she was not going to watch her teacher eat the cookies. I hadn’t realized this was an expectation.
Then we went back to the preschool room, which was now buzzing with children and parents at drop-off time. Erma announced to all who would listen, “I brought cookies! I brought cookies for the teacher!”
Whoopsie. How to explain to a three-year-old that the other kids do not want to know about the cookies they cannot eat?
I just found out that Erma thinks we are making pancakes together tomorrow. I have never made pancakes in my life (true story), so this should be an almost guaranteed adventure in screwing up. Stay tuned!