I Want My Truth In Advertising

Grumble, grumble, grumble – just a warning for anyone who wants to start reading now!

Every week, two friends of mine and I do Supper Swapping. I cook and deliver dinners for all three families on Tuesdays, friend A cooks for us all on Wednesdays, and friend B cooks on Thursdays.

We have all our meals planned out in three month increments, so there’s never any worry about what we’re going to make, as we just have to refer to the calendars we create. It’s super helpful and saves so much time and energy for us.

Generally, I pick up the veggies I need for Tuesday’s meal on Saturday after my yoga class, since the really good produce market is out by yoga. I’m generally furiously cooking or marinating or chopping or all of the above on Tuesday afternoons in order to get it delivered in time.

This week, I was smart. Since it’s summer, we’re doing a “big treat” and making ice cream sandwiches for dessert instead of a salad or side or healthy dessert. Granted, I’m cheating by buying cookies and ice cream and simply combining them instead of making my own cookies and ice cream, but I knew Monday and Tuesday were unusually busy for me this week.

I got my 24 cookies and ice cream from Costco on Saturday. Last night after I got home from my husband’s baseball game and put the wee ones to bed, I started preparing the cookies. I laid out 12 sheets of Saran Wrap (and I need 12 sandwiches, as each family has 2 kids and 2 adults). I put 12 cookies on top of the 12 pieces of Saran Wrap.

Then I looked suspiciously into the cookie container. It didn’t look like there were 12 cookies left. I counted. Twice. And I came up with 9 cookies each time. Great, now I can make 10 sandwiches and have a spare leftover cookie. Wheee!

Of course, I immediately accused my husband, who has been known to eat my creations without asking or realizing that they were being saved for a particular purpose (I’ve had to remake my scones more than once unfortunately – now I just make a double batch). He denied it and appears to be telling the truth.

Then I called my parents and asked if by chance my mom or my dad had eaten the cookies or fed them to the wee ones. It was pretty much a given that my mom wouldn’t do either, but my dad is a glutton for sugar. He always comes home from the store with a pie or cookies or cinnamon rolls or some treat he doesn’t need to eat. Last night, he tried to talk Mister Man into stopping for Dairy Queen after the baseball game because Mister Man had decided he wasn’t hungry and therefore didn’t want a cupcake that my mom had brought. Good for Mister Man for knowing when he isn’t hungry, but my dad totally didn’t get him turning down ice cream. Needless to say, my dad denied knowledge of said cookies, and I do believe him.

The only possible answer now? Costco only put 21 cookies into the container that was meant to sell 24. Grrrrr. Fortunately, my dad had some spare cookies from Costco at his house that he will bring by tomorrow for me to make into the sandwiches (see, I told you!). But I will also be counting the cookies in the containers at Costco and complaining, as it was somewhat important for me to have the advertised 24 cookies. Besides, there’s sort of a principle of the thing – and I do complain nicely to stores. Really. See, I get out all my angst here and then I’m really nice in person, which definitely helps.

I would have gone tonight, but unfortunately both Mister Man and I have come down with a bug. I actually thought it was food poisoning as I was driving as quickly as I could to get home this afternoon. When I was awakened from my nap by the crying of Mister Man after he’d been sick, I realized that wasn’t the case…. Needless to say, I’m not heading out to Costco tonight. Oh, and yes, my husband will be the one making the rest of the cookies (and the lemon kebobs for the Supper Swap) tomorrow. He just doesn’t know it yet!