My mom asked me not to write this post. And so like any youngest child, I will immediately disobey her as soon as I get the opportunity.

I’ve just returned home this morning from a week in Kansas City, staying at my parents’ house and generally soaking up time with the little slobber machine. It was delightful. 

One morning we decided to make cookies of days gone by. These are the ones we kids all sat around the table decorating while hosting imaginary talk shows. For some reason, every time I tried being a cohost, the station had technical difficulties.

Sigh. To be the youngest.

Mom confessed that the icing recipe was really taken from this mini-mix it children’s cook book from who knows when! And the mats are straight up 1983, people. Pretty soon, I’ll be framing it on the wall and lugging them to Antiques Roadshow. See the rolling pin drawn on the mat? And see it in the first photo above?

They’re the same! I know, I’m amazed that they’re still around and weren’t eaten, plastic and all, simply because cookie dough got stuck to it. I’ll eat anything if cookie dough is on it. Hey there Henry, you gonna eat that spoon? Give it here, please… just can’t pass up silver plated metal used to scoop out cookie dough ice cream. And don’t wash it off your hands, either. I’ll clean them for ya.

It can get kinda embarrassing. Well, for R. Not for me. I don’t care.

Ruth woke up in the middle of rolling out the dough, so grandma rocked her as we cut the shapes.

I don’t know if you’re aware, but R and I don’t have a TV at the Shack. Instead, we keep the computer in the living room and watch episodes online. This was fine in town. But now we live amongst turkey farms and cow fields and the only internet provider available puts a cap on our download usage. Meaning, we could probably watch one hour’s worth of episodes per day. So we’re choosy and it ends up being Survivor (yes, we still watch it) and then something more substantial, like Bridezillas.

When I go to my parent’s house, however, it usually involves watching back-to-back episodes of House Hunters for 16 hours straight. I hope someone is taking care of Ruthie, cause I ain’t budgin’.

This day, however, I got my cooking shows kick.

…then Miss Giada came on. And her twins.

I looked at my mom who did the appropriate eye-roll that I was hoping she’d do. It’s part of our bit. There are specific things that we’ve talked about that I know, if I look at her during certain moments, she’ll make a face. Then we laugh.

Giada and her decolletage is one of them. Why we feel the need to discuss them is beyond me. But we can’t help it.

As I iced the now-baked cookies, I asked her if I reminded her of Giada.

She said no.

And rolled her eyes.