As you know, I had to take a food item to school yesterday for teachers to snack on during the Parent/Teacher Conferences. Harper and I went to the store yesterday morning, and quickly decided on a cheese and sausage platter with crackers.
When we returned home, Harper looked at me with her big brown eyes and said, “I wanted to take brownies to the teachers because I wanted to MAKE brownies for the teachers.”
Hhhhh. Let’s make brownies.
We had less than an hour to make brownies and still get Harper and the snacks to school on time. Combine brownie mix, eggs, oil, chocolate chips, etc., spread in a greased foil throwaway pan, bake for 42 minutes, take brownies out of the oven, apply plastic lid, shove hand into oven mitt and carry brownies out to the car with the cheese, crackers, and preschooler. Done.
Know this: We bought new boots for Harper a few weeks ago. They’re pink and suede and awkward. (Awkward = Foreshadowing!) Okay. Back to our story.
When we arrived at school, I had less than five minutes to deliver the snacks to the office before delivering Harper to preschool pick-up. I parked the car, wedged the cheese and crackers into the crook of my left arm, shoved my left hand into the oven mitt and balanced the hot brownies on my left hand. (Can you tell that something wicked this way comes?) I then opened Harper’s door with my right hand, and she undid her seat belt and started to climb out of the car. As she climbed down, her boot got caught on the front seat (I *told* you they’re awkward!), and she started to stumble. When I went to steady her with my right hand, my ankle did that thing that ankles sometimes do when they suddenly give out and you lose your balance. When my ankle did that thing, I accidentally chucked the hot brownies like a frisbee across the parking lot.
Me: Shit.
Harper: You can’t say that.
Me: Yeah. Okay then. I just did.
I retrieved the brownies from across the lot (they were all cracked and bent up like they had been hit by a car (surprisingly, the plastic lid stayed on)), returned them to the passenger side of my car, and Harper and I ran in and delivered the cheese.
Super Nice Lady in the Office: Oh! Thank you so much for the cheese and crackers! This is great!
Me (in constant need of both praise and a good confession): Thanks! I just fell down and hurled brownies across the parking lot.
SNLitO (pronounced Sin LIT Oh): Are you okay?
Me (doing the thing that I do): Oh! I’m good. And the lid stayed on the brownies, and they’re the kind of brownies that have chocolate chips on top. I Fell Down!
SNLitO (aka Dumbledore, because she’s so wise and forgiving): Teachers Eat Anything.
So I went outside, tried my best to bend the brownie container back into shape—a feat not completely unlike trying to bend a Cutlass Supreme back into shape—and turned them in to SNLitO. And she complimented their smell. Because she sees the good in everything.
I could learn a lot from SNLitO.
We all could. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>
Sounds like that SinLIToh is like sunshine personified. Well done all around, FP (except, of course, for the falling down part — glad you’re OK!)
See? This daily posting stuff — it’s a snap!
I wouldn’t hesitate to eat brownies hurled across a parking lot…and I’m not even a teacher.
I work in a school. She’s right. Teachers do eat anything.
By the way, you are amazing.
My dad was a teacher for 32 years and he can confirm that yes, teachers really will eat anything. At one point, he and one of the custodians were considering putting one of those fancy canned dog foods in the middle of a plate and arranging it with some fancy crackers and cheese, just to see if they could get anyone to try it.
As a high school teacher who routinely snacks on stale, flat cookies from the lounge just because someone put them there, I sheepishly affirm this observation about Teacher Eating Habits. I’m sure the brownies were appreciated.
Jenn, I am busting a gut here from laughing at your comment. What a hoot. I can say that without a shadow of a doubt, if that were tried in any teachers’ staff room in the country there would be takers! Heck, I might (no, of *course* I wouldn’t, people!) even try it at the next potluck I get invited to…if the contribution can become anonymous as soon as it gets set on the table. (Snerk) Throw a few capers on top and presto — gourmet pate! Oh, but the temptation is strong…
this really makes me want to hear the story of when you threw a cake when you were nine…
Jenn’s comment reminds me of that Red Dwarf episode where Rimmer & Lister are trapped in Starbug for 2 weeks with only a pot noodle & a tin of dogfood left to eat & Rimmers says “So I know what you’ll be eating last then” & Lister says “Yeah, I hate Pot Noodle”. Then he eats the dog food & you can just hear the audience going “ick”. Teachers can probably sniff the quality of a thrown-across-the-parking-lot brownie a mile off. And they won’t care!
Also, what kind of cake was it, when you were nine???????
Thank GOD you didn’t bring dip.
Another former teacher weighing in: we’re totally shameless too. At my school, kids would wander around with extra birthday treats looking for the principal and the janitor, and they’d usually give one to whatever teacher they ran into.
The principal eventually developed an alert system to let us know when it was something really good so we could make ourselves more visible. (Two beeps on the PA meant there was extra Janicki family toffee somewhere in the building. God, I miss that toffee.)
I do the weird, random confessing thing, too.
Coworker: Your hair looks great today!
Me: Thanks! My son peed in our bed this morning so I was up at 5 and had plenty of time to shower!
Coworker: ???
Why? Why do I do that?
hooray for brownies–even crumpled ones–similar incident this morning–my last day at work before mat. leave (1 year in Ontario people–gotta love it!!!)–and I decided to bake a cake. I left it in the pan, just a simple chocolate cake, and I iced them. THen I covered them with saran wrap, held up by toothpicks and put them on the front seat of the car, beside my purse. I went and dropped the girls off at the sitters and then glanced over and my purse was ON TOP of the cake. Smushed, but not touched (thank you saran wrap) and apparently my coworkers will eat ANYTHING because it is half gone already!!!
how are you after the fall? any bruises to report? I hope not!
“Like bending a Cutlass Supreme back into shape” – superb! I will laugh all day over that.
Jenny
I feel your pain, sistah. I did a similar acrobatic act walking down some mossy steps escorting my son to some high-end birthday party when he was 7 or so. I did the slow mo “Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit” as my arms propellered around in the air with me ultimately landing on the kid’s birthday present. It was quite humiliating.
What a great mommy you are making brownies on the fly like that. No one can pass up hot fresh brownies no matter their appearance. Kudos to you.
I am dying here, laughing. The picture that you paint!! I could FEEL your ankle roll. I could SEE the brownie pan flying through the air. You kill me.
This is SO an event that would happen to me. Only the s-word would’ve been pleasant compared to what would’ve come out of my mouth!! Teachers eat anything – – that super nice lady in the office is a riot.
I love the office lady! I probably would have cried right then because she was being so nice. Glad you didn’t land on your face!
I signed up to bring treats for the teachers today for conferences, and totally blew it off. Not even forgot, just intentionally didn’t do it. Why? Well, No Country for Old Men was on tv last night. I watched tv instead of making treats for the teachers. Um, sorry, teachers.
Question: Were you wearing your lovely Danskos?
I ask because that ankle thing always happened to me when I wore my Danskos, until one day I had such a bad twist that I finally had to give them away.