So, I love to bake. Anyone who lives near me knows that, they can practically see baked goods pouring out my windows. And my poor husband is very put upon trying to eat all the things I bake.
Soooo, this past weekend I decided to make the Hubster earn his goodies and go to Costco and the commissary with me. I needed some odds and ends.
And I think we all know that means I am buying out the baking section of the stores.
We get into Costco and I bought a week worth of food when I already had a two month supply, at least!
And some Christmas presents.
And some fruit I didn’t need.
And wrapping paper.
And almost a shop vac. But Jason pulled the plug on me there.
So the Hubster wisely drags me away from Costco with a hot dog and as I happily eat he maneuvers us into the commissary. On a Saturday. And as I cringe thinking- I should have gotten TWO Costco hotdogs if I am being forced to leave heaven and enter the depths of hell- a euphoric feeling envelopes me.
It wasn’t a payday. Life would be okay.
We get in there for the odds and ends I was supposed to buy at Costco and I immediately realize all the things I need in tiny amounts of are all sold in large amounts. And I’m not even in Costco.
As I am debating whether to buy Bulgarian Buttermilk or Low-fat Buttermilk I start to get nervous. I don’t know the difference and the internet was letting me down in the back of the commissary.
And then a rather large lady walked up to me and gave me the best news. She said to me. “I always use the low-fat in my baking. You can’t tell a difference.”
As I happily thank her and skip off into the sun, my husband reads my fu$%ing mind. He turns to me to say, “You know if she can’t tell the difference that means there really is no difference!”
Good God, that man is my soul mate! I never trust skinny people who give me baking tips, but I’ll listen to a fat person any day. And I can say that, I’m a fat kid.
Call me a weight-est, but it’s a good rule to bake by.
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