Being part of a new neighborhood brings with it certain time-tested traditions or obligations. In specific terms, I am referring to the congenial tasks of taking a “baked good” to other neighbors. Having moved into a new/still being constructed neighborhood and being one of the first residents, it has been a challenge to find that opportune moment when both parties involved in the exchange of pleasantries are present.
Last Sunday, I began pulling items out of the pantry, fridge and cupboard to gather together the elite components for making chocolate chip cookies. I mean, what better “baked good” is there to use when introducing your family to strangers? If aliens landed on Earth (in the US) I’m sure the government’s first response would be to shanghai Mrs. Fields or the Pillsbury Doughboy into the Whitehouse to mix up a batch of chocolate chip cookies to present to the newfound neighbors. It would not even be too far fetched to assume that the aliens just might have their own space-alien chocolate chip cookies for us to eat. (We all saw E.T.’s reaction to the Reese’s Pieces and those were mostly peanut-butter flavored) Do you think he would have left Earth had Eliot dropped chocolate chips in the forest instead?
So there I was measuring out my sugar, butter, vanilla, flour, etc. thinking to myself, “These are gonna be great!” In went the whole bag of chips (milk chocolate, can’t stand the semi-sweet: let’s keep it real) into the mix. Several minutes later, out came those, oh so hot, sweet and gooey chocolate chip cookies that just beg for an ice cold glass of milk to go with them.
After they had a chance to cool slightly and sampled properly for approval, we placed some on the traditional disposable plate and covered them with plastic. We rounded up the kids, got them in their shoes and herded them out the door and down the street. Much to our dismay, the intended target was not at home. We returned the plate of offering into the basket beneath the stroller and proceeded to another street in hopes of finding someone that had moved in. On the next street over, we saw a car parked in a driveway. We had hope! A lady exited the house and proceeded to walk in our direction. We quickly exchanged formalities and discovered that she and her husband were just looking at houses in the neighborhood. We wished her well as she turned away and our nine year old daughter called out to her, “If you buy a house, we’ll give you some cookies!” Another testament to “kids say the darnedest things”. We just hope the lady was too far away to have heard because otherwise we would probably have all sorts of new neighbors, including ones from outer space, lined up outside our door waiting for their plate of chocolate chip cookies.
Now pass the milk. Please!
Last Sunday, I began pulling items out of the pantry, fridge and cupboard to gather together the elite components for making chocolate chip cookies. I mean, what better “baked good” is there to use when introducing your family to strangers? If aliens landed on Earth (in the US) I’m sure the government’s first response would be to shanghai Mrs. Fields or the Pillsbury Doughboy into the Whitehouse to mix up a batch of chocolate chip cookies to present to the newfound neighbors. It would not even be too far fetched to assume that the aliens just might have their own space-alien chocolate chip cookies for us to eat. (We all saw E.T.’s reaction to the Reese’s Pieces and those were mostly peanut-butter flavored) Do you think he would have left Earth had Eliot dropped chocolate chips in the forest instead?
So there I was measuring out my sugar, butter, vanilla, flour, etc. thinking to myself, “These are gonna be great!” In went the whole bag of chips (milk chocolate, can’t stand the semi-sweet: let’s keep it real) into the mix. Several minutes later, out came those, oh so hot, sweet and gooey chocolate chip cookies that just beg for an ice cold glass of milk to go with them.
After they had a chance to cool slightly and sampled properly for approval, we placed some on the traditional disposable plate and covered them with plastic. We rounded up the kids, got them in their shoes and herded them out the door and down the street. Much to our dismay, the intended target was not at home. We returned the plate of offering into the basket beneath the stroller and proceeded to another street in hopes of finding someone that had moved in. On the next street over, we saw a car parked in a driveway. We had hope! A lady exited the house and proceeded to walk in our direction. We quickly exchanged formalities and discovered that she and her husband were just looking at houses in the neighborhood. We wished her well as she turned away and our nine year old daughter called out to her, “If you buy a house, we’ll give you some cookies!” Another testament to “kids say the darnedest things”. We just hope the lady was too far away to have heard because otherwise we would probably have all sorts of new neighbors, including ones from outer space, lined up outside our door waiting for their plate of chocolate chip cookies.
Now pass the milk. Please!
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