My daydreaming ways scared the crap out of our neighbor’s cat.
I tend to get lost in my own thoughts. A lot. If daydreaming were a sport, I would be a pro.
So last night, it’s nearing bed time, and I take the dog for his last walk. We walked back into the apartment complex, got on the elevator, and press 5–top floor. Since I was the only one on the elevator, I got off when the elevator stopped. Naturally. I did not have fuzzybritches on leash. He knows the complex in his sleep and started moseying towards our apartment on his own, about 20 feet ahead of me.
He stood at our door and looked at me, trying to will me to hurry on up so that he could get to dreaming about squirrels and bunny-chasing. “Who’s such a good boy? Is it bed time? Are you gonna snuggles with mom, tonight?” I reached over him to open the door handle . . .
And there was a cat. In my apartment. (We don’t have a cat.) I looked at the cat. The cat looked at me. I looked at Darwin. The cat looked at Darwin. Darwin looked at the cat and looked at me. Then all hell broke loose.
Darwin tried to jump the cat. The cat tried to scrabble backwards, but was slipping on the hardwood floor. My hand instinctively grabbed Darwin’s collar, but that threw me off balance and I pitched left over the top of the dog. And through all of it, I was staring at the bench. The bench in the front hall that was most definitely not the bench that I had stalked online for weeks and weeks before finally purchasing and making David build . . .
Not our apartment. Not our apartment.
In about .0002 seconds, I simultaneously realize that we are on the floor below our apartment, I’ve just tried to barge into someone’s apartment at 11 PM, my dog has just scared the pee right out of my neighbor’s cat, I am supremely embarrassed at my own stupidity, and I am skedaddling. At lightning speed, I tuck tail, turn, and run with my ferocious fuzzybritches out into the stairwell, up the stairs, and into the safety of our own apartment.
And I resolve to pay more attention when exiting the elevator.
Red Velvet Cookie Dough
Edible cookie dough is the best invention ever. I mean, cookies are awesome. And sometimes I need an awesome, perfect, melty chocolate and slightly salty chocolate chip cookie. But seriously. There are so many possibilities for edible cookie dough and red velvet cookie dough is definitely one of the best possibilities out there.
I wanted to stay away from the artificial red dye and I wanted to get an authentic red velvet taste. This red velvet cookie dough is perfect–you do not taste the beet puree and you get a slight hit of cocoa. Make sure you use orange juice–or another citrus–in the beet puree. This prevents it from oxidizing and gives you the stronger red color. I used white chocolate chips to stay more true to traditional red velvet flavor combinations. But feel free to throw in any type of chocolate or even a cream cheese swirl.