To trick Tom.
How?
To pretend that I was making his beloved Duncan Hines brownies when in reality I’d be making the Betty Crocker ones.
You see, Tom insists that Duncan Hines are the best brownies on earth. He refuses to eat any other because he claims that all the others are gross.
I don’t agree.
I’ll eat any brownie.
Tom will not.
Once I made the Betty Crocker brownies and he took a small nibble and said that it was awful.
So this is what I did:
I bought both boxes.
And I told Tom I’d make brownies. He saw the Duncan Hines box. But then when he was out in the living room, I switched and used the Betty Crocker mix.
When I slid the brownies into the oven, I brought the bowl out to Tom to lick up the batter.
You know I like you when I let you lick the batter. Usually the batter belongs to me. Salmonella be damned.
“Thanks!” Tom said brightly, taking the spoon I handed over. He took a bit of leftover batter and stuck it in his mouth. He didn’t have any strange reaction so I started to think, “See? He didn’t notice the difference!”
But then Tom made a face and stared hard at the bowl. “This tastes weird. Did you forget to add the eggs?”
He wasn’t being rude. I seriously forget to add things when I cook. Once I made chocolate chip cookies and forgot the chocolate chips. I do not know how it happened.
“I put everything in,” I assured him. Dammit! He figured it out! He--
Tom shrugged. “Hmm. Okay. It’s still good. It’s just…different.”
AHA. It’s STILL GOOD!
When the brownies came out I let them cool and then brought one out to Tom.
“Thanks!” he said again and took a big bite.
This time, there was no reaction.
I practically clicked my heels when I went back into the kitchen.
You see, Tom! You can eat Betty Crocker brownies and be just fine! I was already working out my Ha Ha I Fooled You Speech.
“Amber? I’m not trying to be rude here but this brownie tastes…off,” Tom said, coming into the kitchen.
CRAP!
I froze like a deer in the headlights.
“Um…” I stuttered. Sometimes I can be an awful liar. My face will turn bright red and my tongue freezes to the top of my mouth.
Tom narrowed his eyes at me. “What did you do?” He peered at the last bit of brownie in his hand and sniffed it. “What did you do?” Then his eyes swiveled to the trash can where I had stupidity tossed the Betty Crocker box. Tom and I raced for it at the same time. I stood in front of it, trying to block his view.
“I did nothing!” I shrieked.
“Yes you did!” Tom shouted, reaching his oversized hand around me. It’s not fair that men have longer limbs!
He managed to see the box that I had tried to hide under a paper plate.
“I KNEW it!” he said, pointing at me. “I KNEW it!”
I shook my head. “It’s not what it seems!” I shouted.
“It seems like you pretended to make Duncan Hines brownies when in reality you made Betty Crocker brownies!” Tom yelled, tapping the trash can.
Oh. Well then I guess it’s exactly what it seems.
“Amber. How many times do I have to tell you? Duncin Hines brownies are the best. Their commercial even says that ‘it’s not just a brownie.’ Because it’s not,” Tom lectured.
“If it’s not just a brownie, then what else is it?” I teased.
Tom looked momentarily confused. “Well. I don’t know. But what I do know is that Duncan Hines brownies rule.” He frowned at the Betty Crocker brownies. “And I don’t know what those are. But they aren’t brownies.” And then he stalked out of the kitchen.
I didn’t mind though.
Not really.
Because hey!
It means more brownies for me.
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