I wake up to four fuzzy white paws sticking straight up to the heavens.
Never mind the dog bed the size of a small boat that sits in the corner of our bedroom. Stuffed with memory foam. Bolstered sides for optimal head elevation. Soft, washable covering. A price tag that should have just read “Congratulations – Your fur baby is spoiled rotten and you’re one of THOSE dog parents.” I eye the clock blinking 6:00 AM at me.
Where did the long weekend go?
I shove my feet under eighty-five pounds of fluffy golden retriever and wrestle an extra inch of duvet in an attempt to cover my cold right butt cheek. Darwin groans . . . twitches a paw . . . doesn’t move. He huffs to let me know my movement has inconvenienced him, and I stare at the ceiling.
Bathroom. Shower. Walk the dog. Make eggs. Make-up. Scratch that. Dress. Scratch that. I think I have some clean yoga pants. Maybe if I wear my hair in a messy bun and throw on some tennies, we can all pretend I put in a really sick workout.
David snores. He says he doesn’t. I wonder if I can find the sound recording I made on my phone one night as I listened to him harmonize with the dog. But I don’t mind. I snore worse than the both of them combined.
Pleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohplease wake up and tell me I’ve gotten the days mixed up. That we actually have one more day to wander Ikea and pretend it’s our mansion. One more day to eat frozen pizza and surf netflix. One more day to watch puppers rip the fuzzy blue butt off a stuffed octopus from Grandma. Is it still an octopus if it only has six legs?
I roll into David’s back. Poke him in the shoulder. Start bouncing the bed to whatever disney song is stuck in my head. I know I’m annoying. But, then again, so did David and he married me. So this is on him.
I’ll make ice cream for tonight. Wait. No cream. I’d have to walk downstairs and a whole fifty yards to the grocery. What else? Peanut butter and jelly brownies. We have enough peanut butter to feed a small army. Or just David and Darwin.
David growls, pulls the covers tighter and rolls, abandoning both my butt cheeks and my right shoulder to the Arctic weather going on in our apartment. Darwin’s paws come down out of the air. He rolls over, stretches, and kicks my legs out off the side of the bed.
I should have slept on the small boat.
Peanut Butter and Jelly Brownies with Raspberries
The swirls! Oh, the swirls. These PB&J brownies are very rich and speckled with fresh raspberries and chocolate chips. Try not to over-mix the peanut butter and raspberry jam or you will lose all the fun swirls. I used a natural, creamy peanut butter, so it was quite easy to swirl. If your peanut butter has hardened in the refrigerator, you can even pop some in the microwave for 10-15 seconds and make it easier to swirl. This recipe can easily be adapted to whatever fruit you prefer or whatever jam you have on hand! Strawberries, blackberries, blueberries, apricots….etc. You could also substitute almond butter, but you’d be a monster. (Just kidding. You and David can be friends.)
It’s tricky to tell when these brownies are done, because you stab the toothpick right down through the peanut butter and/or jelly. Just make sure that the middle of the brownies doesn’t jiggle when you give the pan a little shake and that the edges are starting to crisp. The brownies will also continue baking a little more after you remove them from the oven and let them cool in the pan.
DEFS get yourself a tall glass of milk for these brownies. Or an extra side of raspberry jam!