BakedStreuselCarbon

I know I've blogged before about my lack of ability to follow cooking instructions.  I really wanted to link that post here, but alas, I can't find it.  Which just speaks to my alleged organization skills.  Let me just give you a recap:

I stink at cooking.

That's pretty much the gist of it.

I CAN bake, however.  And occasionally I even get compliments on my baked goods.

So it's no big deal to throw some muffin mix in the mini muffin pan real quick-like for a teacher breakfast in the morning.  Right?  But no.

When the recipe calls for ONE TABLESPOON of butter for the streusel topping, it's no big deal to glob one large scoop of margarine spread with a medium soup spoon.. Right?  But no.

It's no big deal to cram 3/4 of the batter into 24 muffin spots when the recipe very clearly (in 8 pt. font) says it makes 48. Right? But no.

(In my defense I didn't see that last instruction until it was too late. WAY TOO LATE.)

Sigh.

My brand new oven has crispy streusel carbon snakes on the bottom. Boo. And the teachers didn't get any muffins from me this morning.  Wah. And my hubby just called from the store for help finding the ammonia because nothing else has worked. Ick!!

I won't even mention the smoke detector going off because of my baking skillz.  After the kids were in bed.  But let's not talk about that.

I spent all my humor on the post, and left nothing for the title.

You know what makes me laugh? Other people's blogs. Funny people like Jen Hatmaker.

You know what makes me sad? I think I'm as funny as her but I just. can't. get. it. out. of. my. brain. like. I. want.

You know what else? The fact that I even think I'm as funny as Jen Hatmaker means I have mental delusions.

Great.

Add that to my constantly growing list of ailments.  My back! My digestive system! My personality in general! Delusions of hilarity!  My Dr. Pepper addiction!

Call the people in scrubs. I'll go willingly, as long as they have Dr. Pepper there.

Now let's talk about sarcasm. (Really?  Yes. Random subjects changes are easy for crazy people)

Yesterday I laughed out loud at the guy on the radio, in the car on the way to school. Of course his joke was overly sarcastic, which is why I laughed out loud.  If you know me, you know sarcasm is one of my love languages.

So, I laughed at a sarcastic joke on the radio, and my 6-year-old son asks from the back seat, "What's so funny?"  I stupidly took the opportunity to try to explain sarcasm to him.  Keep in mind, kids can't grasp the concept of sarcasm (I read that in a book, written by a professional person-helper. Which makes it true), and we were exactly 3 minutes away from school at that point.  I love a challenge (or maybe I can't tell when to just not talk)!

I explained it like this: "Sometimes people say things that aren't quite true, just to be funny.  It's not really a lie, because it's just to make people laugh.  It's called exaggerating.  Which can also be called hyperbole.  Ummmmm, you'll learn that in school. But probably not this year. Yeah."  I looked in my little rear-view mommy-mirror to see if he was still following.  His glazed-over eyes were staring out the window.  No answer.

FAIL.

A word of advice: when kids ask "What's so funny?" from the back seat.. just say "nothing," and change the subject!