It's Sarah's fault. She made me do it.
Gathered around the piano bench (who needs a table?), engaged in a uproarious game of Apples to Apples -- Rolling Stones, Colin?....your mom! -- I was itching to whip up a batch of cookies to accompany our rollicksome party. Between placing 'Women' as a fitting word to match 'Manly' (c'mon, you must see the logic in that?) and choosing 'Julia Roberts' as an apt description of 'Annoying' (she gets on my nerves a bit, okay?), I managed to mix, stir, scoop and bake a batch of oatmeal cookies.
Well, originally, just oatmeal. The first tray made it out of the oven unscathed. I attempted to explain the goodness of a pure oatmeal cookie that Ryan had taught me -- the men were easily convinced -- but Sarah's feminine, chocolate senses were tingling.
Must. Have. Chocolate. Now.
I caved. Mine were on high alert too. ;-)
I was forced to taint the rest of the batch with chocolate and coconut. And I'm not sorry I did. They disappeared before the game was even over....