We had a crazy almost-week at my parent's house. Mom had surgery (and can't put weight on her left leg for three months, which was the best-case scenario), and my brother and uncle have been working like crazy to modify my Mom & Dad's house to be as barrier-free as possible.
My brother mentioned how much my nephew would love some chocolate chip cookies, which meant that my brother would love some chocolate chip cookies. I resisted the temptation to whip out the Kitchen Aid mixer for an entire day (good work on my part!). But, at last, I relented, as I thought about how hard everyone had been working, and started baking on Monday. My nephew was over, watching The Sandlot. He eventually wandered into the kitchen to see what I was doing, and saw the bowl of cookie dough, and asked ever-so-sweetly (as if I'd say "no" anyway), "Can I try a little?"
Seriously? A little? What member of my family only ever had "a little" cookie dough? Surely, none of us qualify. I had scooped out two pans worth of cookies. To use the rest of the dough for baked consumption only, I would've had enough to make 3 - 4 more cookies. It seemed hardly worth keeping the oven on for another 10 minutes for just 3 or 4 measly (yet delicious!) cookies. So, a little dough became a lot. And my nephew has carried on the fine family tradition of licking the cookie dough bowl clean in an effort to become resistant to that awful little bacteria, Salmonella.
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