So the time has finally come that I own a cell phone. Which means you can ask me if you want my number, or you can just follow me on Instagram, where I’m most excited to be back so I can take selfies with flamingos.
I suppose it was really only a matter of time before I was forced to become so mobilely accessible, but a strange series of events transpired that made it actually happen. Just over a week ago Carl, being the superdad he is, took all the kids to the pool. When our regular pool was closed due to chemical issues, he gamely headed to a new pool across town. When he emerged from the pool an hour later, he had 4 sopping wet children and no bag. No towels, clothes, cell phone, keys, or wallet. Suspecting the worst, he scoped out the parking lot and sure enough, the van was gone too.
On the bright side, their shoes had been in a separate cubby…
He tried to get ahold of me while I enjoyed the silence of the house by having a full ten minute shower with the bathroom door actually closed, so I didn’t hear the phone until – you guessed it – ten minutes later. He then neglected to mention they weren’t at our usual pool, so our rescue crew went to the wrong pool only to wonder where he could possibly be, and, by the time my dear sister safely delivered them all home past suppertime, the littlest was quite purple around the lips with cold.
That very same night we had a date to the mall and came home with a cell phone for me, despite my pointing out the obvious fact that I wouldn’t have had a cell phone in the shower with me anyways and still would not have known of his calls for help.
Logic, my friends, is not the best option on a day when someone roams around with your address, keys, garage door opener, and favourite beach towels.
Thankfully, the police around here are excellent at their jobs, and by 4:00 am they were calling with enthusiasm to inform me that they had found the van, all in one piece, with one of the culprits hanging out smoking inside, and by 10:00 the next morning we had the van back, along with the keys and phone that had been in it! Not to mention about 15 adult colouring books, markers and pencil crayons galore, a glittery gold notebook, and other assorted goodies left in there as a “gift from the police department”. Really, she couldn’t have used our Visa card to buy shoes and clothes in my size?
Then my zucchini plant grew a whole new set of leaves and a few more zucchini, just when I thought I’d done all the zucchini doing I needed to do.
Totally related stories, friends.
Because when your van is gone and you are stranded at home, you want cookies. Chewy, oatmeal chocolate chip cookies that also use up unexpected bursts of zucchini.
Success, for both the police and the stranded baker.
- 2 cups quick-cooking oats (or 1 cup old-fashioned rolled oats and 1 cup quick-cooking oats)
- ¾ cup all-purpose flour
- ½ teaspoon baking soda
- ¼ teaspoon salt
- ¼ teaspoon cinnamon
- ½ cup lightly packed brown sugar
- 6 tablespoons butter, melted
- 1 large egg yolk
- 2 tablespoons milk
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 1 cup grated zucchini
- ½ cup semi-sweet chocolate chips (regular or miniature)
- In a medium bowl, whisk together oats, flour, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon.
- In a large bowl, whisk together the melted butter, sugar, egg yolk, milk and vanilla extract. Stir the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients until no streaks of flour remain. Stir in the zucchini and chocolate chips.
- Chill the dough in the fridge for the time it takes to line a cookie sheet with parchment paper or grease lightly, and preheat your oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. When oven is ready, scoop the dough by Tablespoons onto a cookie sheet about 2 inches apart. Bake for 13 to 15 minutes, until golden around the edges. Let cool slightly before lifting from the pan and setting them on a wire rack. Cool completely before serving.
Adapted from How Sweet Eats.