My sweet(tooth) dad
Saturday morning my father was running down to the grocery store to buy some milk for his breakfast, and asked whether he could pick anything up for me. “Yes,” I said, “we are running out of sugar.”
He returned shortly after, lugging two heavy bags. “They were out of the four-pound bags,” he told me, “so I got a ten-pounder instead.”
“Aha!” I replied. “I see what you are up to, you want me to make sixty percent more cookies!” He just laughed.
So I began to bake. Here is the result, roughly 14 dozen cookies.
And what kinds are they?
If anyone complains over the next week or so about lack of sweet snacks, they better do it while running away fast!