Obsessed with Cookie Dough

Do you ever smell something and it immediately takes you back in time? It happens to me every time I smell vanilla, any type of vanilla, scentsy burner with vanilla scent, perfume with a hint of vanilla or baking and adding vanilla into the ingredients. All of a sudden it’s like I am 11 again. That was the age I was when my sister and I first tried to make my moms chocolate chip dough cause we loved it so much. We wasted so much ingredients that summer trying to make that dough that our parents thought we were eating it, eating bags and bags of brown sugar, chocolate chips and vanilla. Ok now, we were unsupervised kids but we weren’t animals we weren’t scarfing down brown sugar by the spoonful. In fact if my parents ever went onto the deck attached to their room they would have found all the missing ingredients in a bucket full of dishes , dishes we bought at the thrift store so we didn’t have to do extra dishes because of our new baking hobby. We may have been kids but we were smart, we can try to make the dough and throw all the garbage and dishes from our failed attempts into the bucket we kept on my mom and dads deck. Looking back I don’t know if we were just dumb or if we were smart to put it out on their deck , they never did find it so I suppose we fall into the smart catagory. We even moved out of that house and cleaned everything except for that deck that held our secret failed cookie dough attempts.

In all the times we tried to make the dough it never donned on us to look for moms recipe which we would have found very easily in her recipe box on the counter. We likely would have gotten to eat some dough that summer if we had done that but instead because of our eaten habits , well what our parents assumed was our eating habits, we were told to sit at the table and given a 4 litre bucket of vanilla ice cream each, a bag of marshmallows ( we wasted a lot of them as well as that was the summer we discovered they grow really big in the microwave and they blow up if left too long) so they added marshmallows to the list of food we must be sucking back. They also gave us bag of brown sugar each and a few other things but I can’t remember now what they were. We were told we had an hour to eat everything and if we didn’t have it all eaten we would be in trouble when they got home. As much as I would have loved to dive into the ice cream and blow marshmallows up in the microwave it wasn’t as fun when we were being forced to eat something and we just cried like we were beaten and told we could never eat again. Neither one of us touched a single thing and we also never told them about our cookie dough making, so when they got back they were mad and we were in trouble but must not have been anything major because I can’t even remember what happened after that. I am also pretty sure that was the end of our baking days. Now as an adult that knows how to read a recipe and have my moms chocolate chip cookie dough memorized and make them quite often as soon as I open that bottle of vanilla I am instantly taken back to that summer of 1987 and how we spent it unsuccessfully making the cookie dough we craved so much. Made for a funny story as adults to tell mom what we were actually doing, I almost think she was relieved to hear we weren’t just consuming all that food day after day and I am sure she felt we were pretty smart to buy all our own dishes even if she thought leaving them in a bucket might not have been the smartest decision.