November 7, 2016 – Force of gravity OOOOPPS moment. 

          Today I am in the middle of baking my “hope-to-be-famous-for” checkerboard cookies. Moving a tray of half baked cookies from the bottom rack to the top so that they brown better I had an “oh-my-oops moment.”  It happened so fast!

          I didn’t realize it when I was lifting the tray to pull it out of the oven, but I tilted the tray just a little too much and the parchment under the ½ baked cookies slipped off the tray in a flash and landed half sheet on the open oven door, many in the crack of the door oven hinge and the rest in the bottom of the oven.

          It was simply a force of gravity.  But, I know I must have had an astonished look on my face when I viewed the vacant cookie sheet in my hand.  I put the hot cookie sheet on the top of the stove assessing the situation.

          It took me a moment, but I did pull myself together. I grabbed a cold cookie sheet from the nearby countertop with my bare hand.  I laid it on the open oven door and gently pulled the parchment paper with some good cookies and a misshapen mess of cookies on to the sheet.  But, that was only half of the cookies I had.        

I put the tray of retrieved cookies on the top rack of the oven and then fetched a spatula to see if I could scrap up the mess in order to close the door. Most of the cookie mess was in the stove where the oven door opens and closes, and I couldn’t clear it because the handle of the stove drawer, beneath the open door was in the way.  I managed to open the bottom stove drawer and much to my dislike of the idea I scraped the half-baked cookie mess into the drawer and onto the floor.

          I closed the oven door, and then proceeded to scoop up stray cookie dough off the floor, and out of the stove drawer into the garbage pail with a spatula.  I was hardly done when the cookies in the oven were done.

          But, I must conclude, it was my own fault . . . I had torn a piece of parchment paper too short, so instead of tossing it and tearing out a sheet that fit better, I decided to use another short piece and lapped the two on the cookie sheet before I put on my cookies.  So, the two sheets created a mighty slippery surface.  That little careless “tip” was all it took for them to go sliding off the pan.

          I took out the ½ tray of cookies and shut of the stove.  My cookie baking is done for the day.  I will have to scrub the oven before I continue.

          My husband came in from a dump run.  He smells the aroma of cookies and asks,

          “Are there any for us?” [Let me translate . . . any for ME?]  He trolls the kitchen looking around and adds,

          “Are they all going to the church today?” he is eyeing the perfect ones cooling on the racks, then looks at me asking,

          “No, I am baking ahead.” I answer.

          “Got any rejects yet?” he asks.

          “Yes plenty.” I answer brightly. In fact, I am calmly sitting on the couch tasting a few of the misshaped rejects.

          I casually mention my cookie crisis to him – edited of course without mentioning the two sheets of parchment paper that caused it – he seems unconcerned and says,

          “Good, you’ve got rejects.”   He says and goes out the door to mow leaves and some lawn.

          I think, well as long as he has rejects to eat, maybe some things are better left unsaid.