[I would have said betches, but I thought it would offend the only members of my family who read this (it’s because they’re the only ones I don’t get mad at and tell mean stories here where they’re the stars)]

Did I even just do that?  did I just really do a parenthetical remark within a bracketed remark?  I feel awesome about that right now.

I was drinking my eggnogflavoredtea in my dark-ish house in the morning hours of a Sunday, and I wanted to bake.  It is baking season.  I need to make some kind of scone or spice cake or something so that I can eat it with my eggnogflavoredtea in the mornings between now and . . . February.  That’s when baking season ends, you see.  I was okay yesterday with heating up leftovers from this week and making popcorn as a snack, I was fully satisfied with making that.  But today, with the steam of my eggnogflavoredtea wafting up into my nostrils, making popcorn just isn’t cutting it.  And so, the oven is on so I can bake a few of these cookies because they’re in the fridge and ready to go.  But people, I am craving spices.  I want nutmeg, cloves, cinnamon, ginger.  They’re haunting me right now, I keep thinking I smell them or taste them (and no, it’s not my eggnogflavoredtea).  Great-grandma’s recipe of molasses crinkles – here I come!  Now who wants some cookies?  I won’t eat them all.