This year I thought I'd be Suzy Homemaker and bake the girl's teacher gifts. Anyone who knows me is now rolling on the floor with hysterical laughter.
I don't cook. Seriously. I can make maybe five dishes, all of which are almost fool proof. DH prepares our dinners, he has for most of our marriage.
So why, might you ask, did this idiotic idea even occur to me? I honestly couldn't say. All I know is when it popped into my head, logic shut off. I thought it might be fun, a good way to spend some time with the girls while saving some money.
The girls lost interest in baking days ago - about the time this doomed project started. We've made over 100 buckeyes (peanut butter balls dipped in chocolate), 2 batches of chocolate fudge (because the first was too hard), 2 batches of peanut butter fudge (because the first was too soft), 2 batches of pecan pralines (because the first hardened in the bowl before I could get it on the wax paper). Do you see a pattern?
I've blistered my thumb, melted a supposedly microwave safe bowl and gone through a sea of sugar and marshmallow fluff. I am never, ever, never doing this again!
Have you ever started a project only to have it turn to dust in your hands?