Steve bought some cookie dough a few days ago. I usually purchase the kind that is pre-made into little round circles, so all you have to do is pick them off and slap them on the cookie sheet. This time, Steve bought the sausage roll type - where you have to cut off a hunk and put them on the cookie sheet.
He made some cookies, but there was some dough leftover, so he naturally put it back in the frig. This is where the war began. Every time I opened the frig door, that cookie dough challenged me to a fight. And I tried my best.
My first plan of attack was to eat just a smidgen. However, this only infuriated the cookie dough, which then started mocking me. Really. So I continued my attack by eating more smidgens, followed by full-fledged slices. The cookie dough was clearly getting the upper hand, until I dropped the gastronomic a-bomb on it - I tossed the entire remainder into the trash can.
Yes, Steve gets no more cookies. But there are casualties in every war. Better Steve's cookie dream than my enlarging rear end.
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Things that make today great: BSC with Lindley; delivery of Molly's new windows
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