All sugar cookies (and their makers) are not created equal

I got this crazy idea to make sugar cookies for Valentines Day. I know, where do I think of these things? 
I should have known better.
Still, the thought of those yummily chewy, topped-with-heavenly-frosting morsels kept luring me towards the idea. Especially when we got a plateful a few weeks ago from some special friends and I wasn't eating treats at the time, so I declined.
Side note: Some of the worst moments of my life have been when I'm trying to go treat-free and therefore have to decline deliciousness from baking geniuses. Bainbridge folks, I once turned down a slice of Pam Done's freshly made peach pie! Crazypants! 
Anyway back to the story. My treat-fasting was over for a day and it was sugar cookie time. There was no turning back.
It started off well enough (even though I couldn't find Nancy Hansen's to-die-for chewy sugar cookie recipe when I needed it. I found every single other recipe I've ever gathered in my entire life, but of course, not the one I needed). Annie and I made the dough (a recipe from, then I chilled the dough.
In the freezer. 
I forgot the difference between 'chill' and 'freeze,' apparently. Which means that by the time I had pulled it out the next afternoon, it was frozen solid. Plus, there were multiple fork-bite-sized chunks missing. I don't pretend to have any self control.
So it went down like this (presented in the present tense for the remainder of this post):
 "Annie! Let's have some fun and roll out some sugar cookies!" She runs into the room as I pull out the dough. It's a rock. 
"Let's go mom, let's DO IT!" 
"Oh, deena, we have to wait for a little while." 
"BUT MOM!!!!!" 
"It's okay, this will give us time to find our heart-shaped cookie cutter outer thing."
I begin to search. Surely we have a heart. Surely! Hmm. Trees, ornaments, angels, bats, witches, cowboy we seriously not have a heart? Double deena. Oh well, stars are universal. So are candies.
"Mom, where's the HEART for HEART day?" Fail. 
The dough is still solid. How to stall such enthusiasm? Flour, we need flour. Dump it on the table. "What are we DOING?" she asks. 
"Here," I say, handing her the B- cookie cutters. "Play with these in this (the flour) for a while." 
Well, that's all she needs. This activity has suddenly turned into the best activity ever! We don't need no stinking cookie dough! ('troop beverly hills' reference)

She gets flour-ier and flour-ier.

What, the activity is sugar cookies, what?

Anyway, the dough finally softens, we roll it out, cut it up, put it in the oven, miracle, it's all going well enough. Oh, except we need frosting. Frosting! Do normal people know how to just whip up some frosting? I have to google it. Powdered sugar, butter, vanilla, milk, check. I use up the last 2 tablespoons of milk, but that's another story (story: when your husband's out of town for the week, there is no one to go to the store at 10:30pm to buy milk. Hence you have to go the next morning at 7am after you drop #1 off at the bus. Who knew stores were open that early?). 
Now for the food coloring. The frosting has to be pink, after all! 
Wait, do I have food coloring?
Search, search, search. No red. NO RED! BEEEEEEPPPPPP!! The sugar cookies are ready to come out. 
Red, you have two minutes to show yourself.
The cookies come out, the second (and thankfully final) round are cut out and shoved in. I look again and thank HEAVENS, find the red. I open it up, squeeze hard, slip, and PLOP! drop the food coloring in the frosting. DEENA! Lick the frosting off the container (maybe if I bring you red-dyed somethings in the future, you shouldn't eat it), stir stir stir. 
"Next we're going to frost and decorate them, lady! Just wait a minute!" 
More stalling. More flour.
Okay, now where are those tubs of sprinkles I know we have? Search search search....
wait, oh heavens, did I maybe throw those out when we moved last summer? Because we never use them?
What else could we use? Looking around, I see almonds, raisins, wheat chex....FAIL AGAIN.
"Annie, let's let the cookies cool off" (BEEEEPPPPP!!!!! The other batch is ready.) "and let's go outside while we wait." 
We brush her off, kinda. She runs outside to swing (flour trail), I look around at the crazy mess I've made for myself. Cupboards open, drawers all askew, cookie trays and cooling racks rocking precariously in my no-space kitchen, pink goo for frosting, and my belly ACHING because of the nervous/stressed/obsessive cookie dough eating habit. 
There is only one thing to do. 
Clean clean clean. Shut, straighten, dump. Finish finish finish. Cookies stacked and into a bag. Flour (and flour and flour) into the trash. Deep breaths. Go check on Annie.

And here's the absolute best part of the story.

I go outside, and who should I see walking down the walk but those same special friends from a few weeks ago with, wouldn't you know it, a cute valentine plate full of heart-shaped, pink-frosted, sprinkle-sprinkled sugar cookies.
I would have wept if I wasn't so happy.
I know my place.
I am a glorious recipient. 

At least Annie had fun, right?
Happy Valentines Day! So glad it's OVER!


DJ said…
Oh my gosh! This was pure entertainment! Did it really all go down that way, or was this just your writing genius coming through? Brilliant!
Kjerstin said…
If you were here, you would have been the (sugar induced coma) recipient of some Valentine's coconut pound cake with lemon glaze. It was pretty freakin' awesome...but not nearly as much fun as your adventures with Annie! :)