Cooking Up Memories

Yesterday I decided to lead the kids in baking homemade cookies. I love cooking and want to impart that love to the children. Also, I want to make sure that when they graduate from high school, they can cook their way through college.
We had fun mixing the dough. Claire was using the electric mixer and every time she paused, Paul dipped his spoon in and ate some. I greased the cookie sheets and let them arrange the dough to their liking.
I opened the oven door while the cookies were baking and realized this recipe wasn't working. It came out of an old recipe book that Claire picked out at Half Price Books, so I wasn't surprised. The recipe is from the 1970s and maybe the ingredient list wasn't up to date.
So when I opened the oven I told the kids that the cookies weren't cooking right and Claire said, "Should we call the police and tell them we are cooking cookies?"
This was in reference to a recent incident when after baking a cake, I cleaned the oven and the neighbor thought his house was on fire. He called 9-1-1 and the firemen had to come inside my house and inspect it.
I assured Claire that the police did not need to be alerted that our cookies weren't baking correctly. When we pulled them from the oven they were hot and sticky and didn't look like cookies at all.
Undiscouraged, I waited until the pans cooled down and gave the kids a spoon. I told them to dig in. They each had a bite and were uninterested after that.
This morning in the kitchen we ran out of creamer. I buy it in bulk from Costco, so I was surprised. I was looking all over the place and then I remembered what happened.
Last week I made drums for the kids with coffee creamer cans. I had one empty can, but to have two, I emptied another into a ziploc bag.
I found the creamer and gave Adam his coffee. Then I realized that yesterday I used that same Ziploc bag to measure flour for the kids' cookies. That's why the recipe didn't work. We used a cup and a half of coffee creamer, not flour.
At least we made some memories.