The Cookies of Atonement
July 17, 2009 on 11:00 pm | | In Backstage Pass, Food, General MusingNever underestimate the power of baked goods.
Once, my keyboard amp fried three days before a show. I called the electronics repair shop in a panic. The guy said it was at least a week’s wait just to look at it.
“But I have a show!”
“Everyone has a show.”
It was time to break out the heavy artillery. I whipped up a batch of my magic peanut butter cookies.
(Here’s the recipe: 1 cup peanut butter, 1 egg, 3/4 cup sugar. Mix, roll into small balls, bake at 350 for 15 minutes, let cool a bit before trying to get them off the pan. They’re really soft right out the oven, but set up great.)
I wrapped up a plateful, tossed the keyboard in the car and raced over to the shop. The cookies were still warm when I got there.
They fixed the amp while I waited. Bribery so works.
Bandheimers and Redemption
This time around, it wasn’t bribery but atonement I sought. And I was praying for redemption through sugar.
Last Friday, the mister and I returned home from a lovely al fresco dinner in town to find a little note on the door wondering why we weren’t there for band practice. Wait, it gets worse. When I suggested the outing earlier that evening, my husband said, “Don’t we have band practice?” “No,” I assured him breezily, “that’s next week.”
Shit. A fevered review of e-mails followed and the outcome wasn’t pretty. The crucial message was there. I’d missed it and neither of us took the two minutes to check before sauntering off on our sybaritic excursion, dooming our bandmates to a long, trafficky and fruitless drive.
Abject apologies were certainly not enough. I planned cookies, but mere cookies felt inadequate considering both the magnitude of the sin and the fact that the temperature had soared to a degree approaching the national debt. My offering of home made ice cream sandwiches proved sufficient for absolution to be granted.
Phew!
Not only that but our band mates now are no longer the last living people on earth with no cell phone.
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