We wanted to explain about the Pop Tart. We know you do a tough job and expect cookies. (We think you do a terrific job!) And we were going to bake cookies. Honest. But our kitchen blew up. KABOOM! The explosion took out part of the garage and the fire department and the army had to come. It was bad. So our oven was messed up and we couldn’t bake. No oven. No cookies. You understand, right? (My sister wants to know: Is it true that you know when we’ve been bad or good? And were you watching our house at all last week? Just curious.)
Okay. My sister says to tell the real story or we’ll be in more trouble. It’s like this. We were going to bake. We were all ready. We washed our hands and everything. But then, somebody, and I’m not TATTLING, but if you record things on that magic snowball of yours, rewind it and see who I’m talking about for yourself. I’m just saying it wasn’t a KID. Anyway, SOMEBODY got all grouchy. Guess nobody ever told her about watchin’ out and not poutin’ and stuff. We don’t understand it. All we were doing was helping. Honest.
I offered to be the mixer. Then my brother offered to be the mixer. Then my sister said, no, she would be the mixer. So then mom said no, SHE would be the mixer and get down off that chair and quit punching each other right now! Well, it was okay with us if she wanted to be the mixer. I mean it is her kitchen, after all. But my point is we were only trying to help.
Next, I said I’d do the eggs. And my brother said he’d do the eggs. And my sister said, why’d you go and drop all the eggs on the floor, you stupid heads?
I’m not allowed to say what Mom said.
Then we had a little trouble with the flour. Have you ever seen pictures of mushroom clouds? Did you know flour could do that? I didn’t! We also learned that butter? It’s slippery. Oh! And brown sugar can make the coolest sand castles if you pack it into cups. We made a really big one and it only took most of a bag of brown sugar. For future reference, don’t ever bring Mom a sandcastle for Christmas. We don’t think she likes them very much because, once she saw it, she said she was never setting foot in the kitchen with all of us at the same time ever again. Does Mrs. Claus get like this? Maybe it’s only moms, so you might be safe.
This is why we left you a Pop Tart. Don’t worry about the fuzz. It just came from the floor and brushes off real easy. We made the chocolate milk from scratch, but the dog stuck his nose in it, so you might not want to drink it.
Anyway, we hope you won’t hold it against us that our Mom is The Meanest Mother in the Whole Wide World Who Didn’t Bake Cookies. It’s not like we got to choose her or anything.
The Tyler Kids
Barbara A. Tyler lives in her own little world with people who claim to be relatives (DNA analysis pending). You can read more of her humor at http://thatbarbperson.