We had a fine playdate yesterday. It involved a bit of fancy footwear and a few frilly dresses.
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5 days ago
Showing posts with label playdates. Show all posts
Showing posts with label playdates. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Wardrobe Wednesday
Saturday, December 5, 2009
We Call 'em Truffles, cuz We're Classy
If you've been poking around the interwebs looking for ways to increase your body mass index, you may have come across recipes for cake balls and Oreo balls. I prefer to call them truffles, because I try not to eat anything that has balls in the title, but you can call them whatever you like. I mean, if you want to hand out carefully packaged gifts of balls this holiday season that's your business. I'm not here to judge.
I'm here to educate {snort} you in the fine art of making Oreo Truffles, for personal consumption (I highly recommend consuming many of them) or gift giving. They are super easy, can be made with the slave labor assistance of children and require no baking. Unlike other no-bake "cookie" treats, these are actually edible and don't resemble woodland feces when completed.
Begin by instructing your minions to disassemble an entire package of Oreos. Remind them that Santa is watching and will not bring presents to those who sample the raw materials. This will of course lead to a revolt and said minion (and her little buddy) will retreat to the bedroom to make a giant mess.
After you've torn apart the cookies, feel free to weep a little as you throw the middles in the trash. Trust me, it's the only way. Put the denuded cookies in the food processor and reduce them to dust.
Go upstairs and observe the destruction caused when you neglect to supervise two four year olds on a day long play date.
Now comes the ball part. Clean hands are a chef's best tool. Pretend it's really yummy play dough.
Now, you have truffles. Put them in the fridge, quickly. Children smell them a mile away.
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Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Lock Up Your Daughters
This is T. He is an awesome little dude and he has a crush on Violet. T has a thing for older women.
Unfortunately, today he may have blown his chance with my demure, only child.
The kids were enjoying some veggie dogs and frozen peas when out of nowhere, T deposited some freshly chewed hot dog onto Violet's plate. It was reminiscent of a mother bird feeding her young. Clearly, it was a bold romantic gesture, but it backfired.
T's big sister P, was nonplussed by the regurgitation. Violet, on the other hand, gagged a little in response to the "gift".
I tried really hard not to laugh. I've been given way less thoughtful gifts by men.
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