Josh was having some guys over last night to jam or record or whatever. I thought I’d impress everyone with my domesticity by baking chocolate chip cookies from scratch in my newly painted kitchen. I even considered tying on a cute apron made from bright flowery fabric with ruffles on the bottom.
But the shortening smelled funny. It was a strange yellow color and was gooey and tacky like hair gel.
Turns out I haven’t baked in the amount of time it takes for Crisco to spoil. The can didn’t have an expiration date, which is another way of saying it lasts essentially forever.
Turns out I’m not as domestic as I thought.
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