Flour, Butter and Sugar. Nom.

So, yesterday I made this:

Not pictured: flour behind my ear and in my hair.

This is my second attempt at making shortbread and it’s still not right but my poor husband came home right as they were just finishing in the oven. The house smelled of sweet buttery goodness and my poor hungry husband realized he wouldn’t be able to eat any of them. Why? He’s on a diet.

Yeah, I’m a bastard.

I woke up this morning and walked into the kitchen to discover my cookie tin sitting next to the pan. A small, subtle reminder from my loving hubby to put the shortbread away. So now I have a full cookie tin and a full biscotti jar because I apparently chose the “shit-ton” recipe.

This isn’t really about what a jackass I am but I had to take off my watch and wedding rings to knead the dough but forgot to put them on after I got cleaned up. Being lazy I spent the entire night trying to adjust rings and a watch that weren’t there. At one point the hubby suggested I get up and put them on but I would have had to get up and at the time I was playing a video game… Yeah.

But it struck me how empty my finger looked without the rings and this morning when I finally put them back on it felt so right. And that’s how I fell in love all over again with my husband twice in the last twenty-four hours.

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