Mac and Collin's Comedy Hour

We rarely have a night without dessert. It just doesn't happen. We like to eat too much. But Wednesday evening, that's exactly what happened. We're sitting around the dining room table enjoying homemade chicken noodle soup, and fresh Italian bread with lots of creamy butter; the chatter peaked and lulled between bites. Jon called and said he was going to be late, and we had started eating without him.

The air was filled with tales from the day, and what was to be for the morrow. Mac was explaining to us all how they were going to be making Chocolate Oat-mole Cookies in Chemistry because they were learning about moles and celebrating National Mole Day. Not the blind furry creatures that live underground, but the unit of measure. (Mac is very animated, and has the most contagious laugh.)

I heard Jon's truck, and said, "I think Jon just pulled in," then placed a spoonful of soup into my mouth.

"Or..., an airplane just landed in the driveway," Mac suggested.

I nearly choked with laughter, and had to excuse myself from the table lest I cough up a lung right there.

Upon my return, Jon was seated and eating, and the boys began discussing dessert. When I told them I hadn't made anything, Mac suggested that they make No-bake cookies.

Now, Verne was out of town, and he loves No-bake cookies. I said he'd be awfully disappointed if they made them while he wasn't here. His two loving sons simply replied, "Don't tell him! They'll be gone after tomorrow anyway. He'll never know!"

With that, I protested, but told them they could make more for his return on Friday afternoon. Just to make them feel guilty though, I called Verne and placed him on speakerphone.

"Guess what the boys are doing right now?"

"Ummm..., I don't know. What?"

"Making No-Bake Cookies!"

"Ohhhhh..... WHY????? WHY WOULD THEY DO THAT WHEN I'M NOT THERE?"

"I told you guys he'd be upset!"



And so we ended the conversation with Verne with the boys promising that they'd make some for his return.


I went back to the dining room, leaving the boys in the kitchen with a tried and true recipe.

Except that it called for oleo.

As I carried a few dishes back to the sink I spotted the can of Crisco sitting on the counter. Mac was dipping the measuring cup into the Crisco and making a huge mess when I asked, "What are you doing?"

"The recipe called for O-LAY-O."

"THAT is NOT OL-EE-O. THAT is CRISCO!"

"Then what is O-LAY-O?"

I told him to get out the margarine.


The boys were laughing hysterically, and having a grand time when I entered the kitchen again.

It appeared that Collin had things under control, as he actually loves to cook and is pretty good at it.

Mac was sort of supervising. Wanting to take partial credit, and waiting to eat cookies.

I asked if they needed any help, and got the look.

You know the look, don't you fellow moms? "We're doing fine and don't need help from the likes of you!" Mac proceeded to tell me that I was the grim baker to which I took major offense. He swiftly apologized while I was doubled over with laughter.

"We know what we're doing, Mom. Trust us. You'll never know we were in your kitchen."


Yea, right.
And then they started placing the boiled concoction onto wax paper- lined cookie sheets.

And then they started dripping the boiled concoction over the top of my stove.

And between the cracks of the stove and the counter tops.

But they did clean up every last crumb and greasy measuring cup. And the cookies were good. And they are gone. And they need to make more before their dad returns this afternoon.