So last week, Ricky had Daniel over to hang out for a bit. A few funny things happened and I couldn't help but laugh and think what guys would do without us girls around.
It all started out fine. They were playing some Nazi Zombies, while I was scrapbooking and taking care of Judah. I had to run out and get some baby food, so I loaded up the kid. I asked Ricky if he wanted me to make them dinner before I left, or if he wanted to just throw in a frozen pizza. He opted for the pizza, so I left with the baby.
When I came back, the guys told me they left a few slices for me, but they weren't fully cooked. "Why didn't you cook it longer?" I asked. First, they just looked at me like that was a brilliant idea, which I then preceded to go cook it longer. I entered the kitchen and saw the pizza on the pizza stone, with the cardboard still underneath...
Who cooks a pizza with the cardboard?! No wonder it didn't cook right, and the guys must have eaten several pieces of cardboard with their pizza... gross. I took off the cardboard and cooked my 2 slices, laughing the whole time.
Then the guys decided that they wanted some cookies. I have a big bucket of cookie dough from Costco, and all they have to do is scoop it onto the cookie sheet, and set a timer. Now, there they are in the kitchen while I am feeding Judah. First question comes, "How do we get it out of the bucket?" There are several solutions to this problem, but I wouldn't think they would ask since Ricky is an engineer and Daniel also does a lot of construction type stuff around his house, and does electronic installations of some sort. Don't you think the both of them could put their heads together to find a way to scoop the cookie dough onto the cookie sheet? Nope. "Use the ice cream scoop," I offer. No, he wants to use a spoon. "No, don't use a spoon because it will bend. Use the ice cream scoop or your hands," I add. Well, the ice cream scoop was dirty, so they use their hands. Then they wanted to make a few large ones and some other small ones. I gently tell them that the cooking times will vary if they don't make them all the same size. They didn't know that, of course, because it's their wives that always make the cookies. Then Daniel stands at the stove to preheat the oven, presses a bunch of buttons randomly, asking "How do you work an oven?"
Once they pull the cookies out of the oven, I let them know that the cookies have to cool down first, or else they won't fully cook. This is also something they wouldn't know because their wives always make the cookies. Once they pull them out they are complaining they don't look done. "that's because they need to cool," I reiterate. So they pull the cookies out, and remove them from the cookie sheet, which is what is needed for the cookies to finish cooking. And obviously, they are falling apart so they are no longer shaped like cookies, and so they try to eat them in haste and burn their tongues because it's too hot. All the while, I am watching from a distance, thinking how much less entertaining the night would be if they had even the slightest clue what they were doing. Of course, after a series of unfortunate events, they didn't even bother to leave a cookie for me, the poor wife who has been feeding, cleaning, and entertaining the baby the entire time.