Yesterday morning, I woke up feeling exhausted. I have been having a harder time sleeping lately. I blame it on the fact that I have to pee 30 times a night, or the fact that I am roughly the size of a barge.
Anyways, I woke up groggy and wishing it was already nap time, so I could lay back down. And then pregnancy brain set in.
At nap time, I was browsing the web, and happened across a cookie recipe that I thought sounded wonderful! Rocky Road Ice Cream Cookies. I had all the ingredients, so naturally, I printed the recipe to try it out.
Brandon walked into the kitchen to ask if I wanted to lay down for a nap, and he found me wild-eyed and wielding a whisk. He later said that he thought I'd lost my mind. I told him of my cookie plans, and he left me to my choco-mallow crazy-fest.
I made the cookies, following the recipe loosely. Quite loosely.
When I baked the first batch, I started to recognize my "improvements" probably weren't the best. The first 8 cookies had turned into a giant melty goo-cookie; the marshmallows had melted and expanded in the oven, and it didn't look appetizing. I tried a bite. It didn't taste very appetizing either.
But I thought that I couldn't let the rest of the dough go to waste, so I decided to tun it into brownies. I added a few more ingredients, and put the remaining disaster-mix into a brownie pan, and back into the oven it went!
Again, not a good plan. This time, the marshmallows formed a crust on top of the mixture, and frankly, it looked like poop. By this point, I knew that I had had a lapse in food judgement, and didn't even bother to taste it.
Portia then woke up from her nap, and I was mad at myself for not spending the last 2 hours asleep, like any normal human being would have done.
Brandon laughed with me, and we reminisced about my cooking mishap while pregnant with Portia, when I tried to make spaghetti sauce from scratch. For some reason, it had flour in it. A lot of flour.
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