Can I just tell you something?!

Tyler loves when I use the phrase "Can I just tell you something!?" I have no idea where it came from, but it comes in very handy sometimes. Apparently I use it a lot when I am frustrated. Always when I am serious. Tyler just laughs and rolls his eyes at me.
But seriously, I just want to tell you something.

I hate (and I do mean hate) when you follow the directions EXACTLY and something still doesn't turn out like you want. Like this for instance...
Mutilated Cookie Bars. See, I got this cute little recipe book called "500 Cookies. The Only Cookie Compendium You Will Ever Need." The recipes are supposed to be really easy. "For Beginners," I think it said.
Lies.
I was feeling fairly confident in my cooking last night because the dinner I made was edible. (At least Ty thought so.) Plus, I just like to find any excuse to use my new KitchenAid. Then, when Jordan and Cheyenne (Ty's brother who is dating my super cute friend) decided to come over, I thought I would make something yummy. I decided not to take any chances and followed the instructions EXACTLY for the Nestle Tollhouse Cookie bars...I mean, how hard could it be, really? It even said in the book that they were "America's First Cookie." Com'on people, this isn't rocket science.
Long story short, it was a disaster. If I could explain the look on Tyler's face when he first saw them, I would. But I can't. It was the definition of priceless. It was kind of like his really really surprised face immediately followed by a look of concern and deep contemplation. I may have even seen a flash of horror. He probably would have been in trouble for that look had it not been quite so hilarious.
(We are working on his reactions to my cooking...he's coming along, girls...he really is.)

Anyway, these mutilated cookie bars got me thinking. They reminded me of last week when I made Ty a two-tiered birthday cake and the top broke and slid off like a BYU-I student walking across campus in January. I called my mom in tears and she laughed (not a good response) and told me to make another one. "But I followed the directions EXACTLY," I cried to her. I sucked it up and went to Broulim's in my pink slippers and pajamas at ten thirty pm and gathered supplies. I began baking another cake and finally finished by one a.m. The cake was beautiful, if I do say so myself.

That also got me thinking...sometimes, even when we follow the directions EXACTLY, things don't turn out like we planned. Sometimes they turn out ugly and burnt and doughy all at the same time.
But, sometimes they turn out even better...like ditching the exactly made cookie bars and heading to Gee's dairy for ice cream with friends. And like your husband giving you a hug and telling you it's not your fault that things didn't turn out, even though you know he's kind of laughing on the inside. I guess that's what keeps life interesting...the unexpected.
Needless to say, I forbid Tyler to eat the cookie bars and left them on the stove and went to bed. There is a huge part of me that didn't want to be the stereotypical housewife who can't cook to save her soul. Too bad for me I guess.
A quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson crossed my mind as I was brushing my teeth last night...

"Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could."
Amen, Ralph. Amen.