Sugar Bowl Petite Brownie Bites: YUM! They are my downfall, so chocolate-y, so tender (yet chewy), a delicious two bite dessert – but for me, usually a 6 x 2 bite dessert, or maybe even an 8 x 2 bite dessert. The point is, I have a difficult time resisting them, especially when a glass of wine with dinner has muscled my willpower aside. And guess what? They are not good for you!
So, I DON’T BUY THEM. I can resist them at the store, so I just don’t bring them home. BUT! Odel does. Odel loves them – LOVES ‘em! - and I agree that just because they pop the button on my jeans doesn’t mean that HE should be denied easy access to a brownie or two or twelve for dessert.
So, 48 brownies (yes, that’s right – they come 4 DOZEN to a box, one giant bin of brownies) found their way into our cart, into our (reusable) grocery bag and into the rig last week. Per our agreement, Odel hid them from me – yes, that actually works for me. But then the trouble started.
Day One, morning, Odel: “So, did you find the brownies? You’ll never be able to find the brownies! I found the PERFECT hiding place” Me: “No, I didn’t look. I’m not going to look.”
Day One, afternoon, Odel: “Did you find ‘em?” Me: “What?” Odel: “The brownies!” Me: “No, I didn’t look and I’m not going to look.” Odel: Crestfallen silence.
Day Two, afternoon, Odel: “You’ll never find them. I hid them in the perfect place. You’ll never find ‘em!” Me: “Thanks for reminding me! (frown) And, please stop it! I’m not looking!” Odel: (Sad, sad face) “Okay. Sorry.”
Now, let’s backtrack a few days, say “Brownie Day minus 2”. Me: “Since it’s kind’a humid here and our towels don’t dry very well, I’m going to start tossing them in the dryer (yes, we do have a clothes dryer) after we shower, to dry them out.” Odel: “Great idea.”
We have a stacking washer and dryer, with the dryer on top. Now, when 6 foot tall Odel – who handles the laundry in our household - opens the door, he sees right into the dryer, including the bottom of the tumbler. When 5' 5” Laurie – who does a rare load of laundry - opens the door, she sees most of the dryer, but has to stand on tippy toes to check for a lone sock (or anything else, like BROWNIES!) hiding on the bottom of the tumbler.
Day Three, morning: After my shower, I grab the wet towels, toss ‘em in the dryer, and turn it on. Swish, swish, boom. Swish, swish, boom, boom. Boom, boom, BOOM! What the heck is that noise? Oh NO, is our dryer dying??
As I reached for the dryer door to find out what was making that horrible racket (had I accidently scooped up a shoe with the towels somehow??), Odel jumped up and yelled: “What are you doing? WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Me: “Huh?”
Well, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen him move quite that fast. I opened the door to damp white towels covered with tiny chocolate brownie crumbs, while Odel stood in the hallway with his mouth hanging open in disbelief, distress emanating from every pore. I laughed so hard I almost wet my panties, but controlled myself as best I could when I saw how distraught he was. Yes, I FOUND THE DAMN HIDING PLACE!
I still laugh out loud when I think about it and, finally this afternoon, Odel was able to look upon the “perfect hiding place” and smile.
Just another day of RV’ing adventure :)