Spooktactular Cookies

I am hoping to teach some classes at a local cake supply store here in town. There was some sort of big event going on outside the store this weekend so the store-owner said we should have a bakesale to promote the classes and increase registration. I do my best to stay calm. {If you were watching this interaction happen at a distance you would be able to see me transform like Bruce Banner into The Hulk. Or maybe more like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.}

Don’t ever say “bake sale” around me unless you want to rouse the berserker blood lust side of me that I usually reserve for role-playing games. It is quite possible that I perceive bake sales the way ruthless gentry must have viewed duels back in the days when it was still polite to carry a sword.  Not only will you be grateful when I serve you your loved-one’s remains on a platter, you might not even mind how much I roasted them.

I’m genuinely sorry. I really am. I guess I’m “that” power hungry bake sale megalomaniac. Every bake sale’s got at least one. I’ll make sure to announce myself before my army of cookies crash down your door. I don’t always make cookies, but when I do I make them violently.

I wanted to commit seppuku (A ritualistic Japanese suicide wherein the person skillfully disembowels themselves) when only 8 of my 60 cookies sold. I actually knew this would happen but it’s what the store owner wanted, I had the time, and the cookies are delicious!The “event” was a car show.  I guess there was some 200 cars with their hoods up and motor cycles looking all neat in their rows! I am going to make a vast generalization/assumption mixed into one and say ultra cute cookies probably would have been better received in a crowed not filled with Road Warriors.

All that aside more people have signed up for my classes!