DysdHubby and BoyGenius have a Boyscout camping trip this weekend. They have them once every month.
I *always* make treats for the troop. So, I decided (yes I am that daft) that It would be a great idea to make them some..COOKIES. Whattheheckwasithinking.
Weeeell, ya know the scene in Nemo, where the big shark gets a tiny little whiff of Dorys' blood and all hell breaks loose?
In retrospect, standing above a fresh bowl of tollhouse cookie dough wasn't one of my better ideas. I stood there, staring down at those luscious fluffy peaks of heavenly goodness..and my eyes glazed over...my *inner self* began screaming "Noooo!! Stop!! You can't!! Don't do it!!"
So. I stiffled *inner self* with an enormous dollop of dough, and what ensued can only be described as...Cookiedough Carnage.
It was like starving a Doberman for a month and then tossing him in a cage full of fat little bunnies.
I can't even bring myself to think about the carb count.