Last night Charissa and I were baking, and just as I got my yummy pumpkin-oat-nut muffins in the oven, I realized--oops--not enough flour left for Charissa to make her World's Best dark-chocolate-mint-chip cookies. Rats -- time for a trip to the corner store. Grabbing our coats, we dashed out the door. This should've been just a quick trip, but you know how it is...you get to the store and, wandering down the aisles in quest of flour, you see just the perfect gift for this person...something else you'd forgotten you needed...and on and on. Perhaps there is no such thing as a quick trip to the store, especially at Christmas!
Only as we were checking out, which was rather too late, did it occur to us that the muffins were probably going to be wayyy overdone (read: torched) by the time we got back. The timer I'd set only beeps once -- no second chances. Sure, Tim was home, but he'd be the first to tell you he's not known for his kitchen skills. Plus, if he'd been in another room, he probably wouldn't have even heard it go off. I hadn't thought to call him, and now there was no real point. Bemoaning our muffin losses, we headed back.
Walking in, though, a delicious (as opposed to burnt) smell greeted us, and we saw two dozen beautiful muffins happily cooling on the counter.
"Oh my goodness, Tim, you did take them out! I thought you wouldn't hear the timer!"
"Um, yeah, I guess I must've heard it, but it didn't really register that it was your kitchen timer until Alfie ran over to the stove and barked..." Apparently Alfie, who does rather have a way of insisting, made it quite clear that this was Something Important and Tim should Do Something!
Good Dog.
Saving the world, one muffin at a time.
Will accept medals of honor, treats, and tummy rubs...
