Biscuits The Dog Wouldn't Even Eat
I do not remember how young I was when this story happened. I would guess I was probably somewhere between 10-14, but I’m not sure. I have a bit of a flare for baking. It’s not that I’m great at it, but give me a recipe and let me go. Sometimes I enjoy it. Yes, I confess I can be a ninja mom. However for some reason on this particular day I decided I would make biscuits and I flatly refused to follow a recipe. My dear sweet mother attempted to steer me in the right direction as I randomly grabbed cooking items off the shelf. Flour billowed in the kitchen with whatever else looked or smelled like it should go in the batch. Surely I didn’t need any recipe. I could do this on my own. What resulted that day was something my family and I still laugh hysterically about. When the “biscuits” came out of the oven they were bad, really bad. I started to cry. My mother in feeling sympathy trie...