I love gerbera daisies.
But on to my brownie post.
Jamie’s last day of preschool was last Friday, so only Maria has school this week. At home, it’s just Mama and the babies. Dear Lord, help me.
Actually, it’s been okay. Alice and Jamie have been having a ball together, and it’s fun to watch them get to be better friends. Jamie and Maria are best friends and usually Alice is the one who is tagging along. But not this week. This week, Alice and Jamie are thick as thieves, and I say this because you should see the horror that is the basement. It’s a MESS.
But I never get just “mama-jamie” time. There is always a little stinker in there ‘helping.’ Until today. Alice was down for a nap, and Charlotte had just dozed off, so we decided to do some baking. Straight out of a box, baby.
And those tiny little toes hanging off the edge of the naughty stool could not have been cuter. He pulled that over all by himself so he could really help.
He was so excited.
But then we got the eggs out of the fridge.
Excuse me. I mean we got the egg. Singular.
The box said we needed 2.
Oh, we were sad. See?
But luckily, Daddy rescued us.
Actually, Jerry across the street rescued us. We love Jerry. And Barb.
So we made those brownies.
But it was a little tough to stir. Take a look.
Oh, you don’t have your tickets.
“My tickets to what?” you ask.
Your tickets to the freaking gun show, that’s what.
[he told me his muscles were huge and so he could stir it very easily. He was right.]
And when you’re done baking from a box, this is the only mess: