Yesterday I got to spend the day with a few of my favorite teens. Niether of them are mine or related to me in any legal or DNA-based sense, but they seem to like it at our house. I've been teaching both of them to bake some of my favorite treats and we bake something every time they're here.
I was having the kids whip up a batch of Snickerdoodles, which are evil by themselves, in anticipation of the Dance Central Dance-off that they'd challenged Andrea Dickinson and myself to at the last GRRWG meeting. I'd been promising to teach them what I've labelled Snickerdoodle muffins (a.k.a French Breakfast Puffs slightly modified) so I whipped up a quick batch before they started ont he cookies so I could show them how easy they are to put together.
The muffins came out of the oven just in time to put the Snickerdoodles in. I quickly put the finishing touches on the batch and had one of the kids run a muffin down to my hubby. Then they got to taste them for the first time.
They're so evilly delicious the first comment was "Oh my God, this is Satan!". Which had me laughing. A mother was called and told "I ate Satan today". I can only imagine the look on her face. The reaction had me laughing, they are so yummy I can eat an entire batch by myself.
This morning I baked Satan again to feed the one kid that spent the night. I brought one to his mom when I returned him home. She likes them so much that now "he" has been requested as part of their Christmas breakfast.
I wonder if I can blame my weight on "Satan", seeing as how most of my excess is due to my own baked goods?