Confection Perfection

Like myself, coworker-turned-friend Amy eagerly anticipates her midlife crisis, a time when she can cash in her lucrative (okay, not so much) career in academic publishing, run away with the gypsies, and open a bakery. I actually don't know if gypsies are know for their kneading and frosting skills, but nevertheless, our very own Gypsy Bakery is sure to be more than just a pipe dream.

So, it's appropriate that when Amy and her charming husband Denis came to visit us this week, they came bearing gifts. Gifts in the form of the best damn sugar cookies that I have EVER had. Ever. They're like butter. Quite literally, as Amy astutely observed. They're not just sugar cookies though. These are COW cookies. Just look:

So this morning, shortly after Amy and Denis left for a few days of relaxation on the McKenzie River, I noticed two remaining cow cookies sitting on the table. Well, my jeans size AND the testimony of anyone who has ever known me both suggest that these cookies will not be around when A & D return later in the week. In no time at all, well, I sort of lost my head.

I'm not sure when again in this life I will have anyone bring me cow cookies all the way from a divinely (bovinely?) inspired bakery in Ventura. So, I will simply show my appreciation in the best way I know how--polishing off these suckas. Sorry Amy. Sorry Denis.

Damn.