no, not me. Libby. Yesterday afternoon I decided to make bread the old fashioned way: in my Kitchen Aid. I had just gotten the bread into a warm oven to raise when Libby came bolting through the kitchen. She slammed on the breaks when she caught the sight of the mixing bowl.
"cookie dough?" she weedled, with big puppy dog eyes. The mixer being out only means one thing to her.
"no. I didn't make cookie dough. do you want a cookie?"
"No, cookie. coooooookiiieeeee doooooooough!" she wailed.
"no. there isn't any cookie dough."
"cooookie dough." and her eyes squinted up and the crocidile tears streamed down her face.
"no. I didn't make cookie dough. I made bread."
"bread?" the tears stopped and her face brightened.
"we're out of bread. I'm making some but it's not done yet."
"bread all gone. Have a cookie."
"no cookie. bread."
"no bread. There. is. no. bread. it's all gone. do you want a cookie?"
"no cookie dough. have a cookie, for pete's sake!"
"cookie?" and she reached up and took it and walked off happily.
That folks is why I'm tired all the time.