Everything is ok once you bite into one of my cookies. Everyone knows that. If you don't, that's because you've never had one. Whenever there's a problem, I enter the room and say "I made cookies!". This always solves the problem.

One day there was a horrible snow storm. The snow looked like a sugary, floury, salty, baking soday wonderfulness. It was swirling around like it was in a giant mixer. The sun looked like a pretty yellow egg yolk, if I looked at it long enough it was two egg yolks.

Well it sure was pretty outside. Inside though. oh deary dear. The electricity was shot. The wall paper was coming off the wall. The rug had spots of dirtiness from the previous owner. She was a prostitute and well. I don't want to tell you what the stains were from. The smell, oh my stars it was horrid! So I decided to clean.

It was hard to see in the chocolate chip darkness. So I grabbed what I thought was rug cleaner spray and bleach. I wanted my house to smell like a wonderful bakery not a whore house! So I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed out the yuckies and sprayed in the yummies! Silly me I grabbed ammonia not rug cleaner. That's weird cause germs are hard to grab at with only your hand. The fumes got to me so I went outside.

I had locked my self out. Oh my my my. I was feeling light headed still so I took in a deep breath. Everything was ok because I had cookies baking in the oven. No. I had cooking burning in the oven. Oh no! I grabbed at my hair and watched the smoke gather in the kitchen.

My house caught on fire. Sad. everything I owned was in there. Ha ha ha. Isn't life so funny? Suddenly just when the house was nearly burnt to the ground the firemen came. They pulled me away from the pretty pretty pretty flames. They put the fire out. One asked me if I was ok.

Was I ok? WAS I OK? Of course I was. I MADE COOKIES!