…is whack!
I tend to make cookies at around 11pm or so on Saturday nights. Right about the time that my favorite local horror movie show comes on (Warning: may be some NSFW on that site there).
I think there’s this wonderful moment where you’re just getting into the midnight hour, and you’re usually the only one up, and you’ve go ingredients going together, the oven is heating up the kitchen, and then the smell of fresh-baked cookies starts to fill the room. If it happens to be raining outside at the same time, which is should be this weekend, I can’t imagine much nicer than that.
Granted, my cookies don’t dance and sing my praises. But the closest I come to enslaving them is shoveling them into my mouth-hole.
