Cookie Dough Is My Kryptonite

My mom had book club tonight, which meant I had the house to myself.  An empty house is always a mixed bag of emotions. At first you're all excited because it means you can do all the fun things your mom doesn't like you to do when she's home, like walk around the house pretending to be a British Archeologist ("I don't like when you do that, Earlene! It makes me nervous! Stop talking like that! Stop it right now!"), or watch Ren and Stimpy DVDs ("Distasteful.") But after a while it's just kind of boring. And then eventually you get a little panicky and wonder if maybe there was an apocolypse and you didn't even notice and maybe you're the last woman on earth and why is the street so quiet and maybe you had better go on cnn.com just to make sure the world didn't end while you were pretending to brush off ancient pottery fragments with a toothbrush.

When my mom leaves for Book Club (Or Bunko, or to a Botox Free Informational Meeting), she always leaves dinner on the table for me. When I was little, dinner would often consist of Mac N'Cheese (duh.) or three of those frozen Kid Cuisine meals (one was never enough).

Lately though, Mom's dinner for me usually consists of: A stalk of broccoli. A wedge of Jicama. Bark. And a Carrot for dessert. 

As soon as Mom left, I put my dinner in my cat, Paul's dinner bowl (he was displeased) and took out the package of cookie dough I bought earlier in the afternoon.

Have you ever had cookie dough for dinner? Best. Thing. Ever. Especially now that it comes in pre-cut squares. So it's easy to divide up into a meal. 3 squares as an appetizer. 7 squares for dinner. And two for dessert.

Best dinner ever.

Cordially,

Cyril Alistair Mitford, Archeologist

(AKA Earlene Watts)