I made frosted brownies once. Oh, yum. I am trying to work up the oomph to make brownies from scratch. I don’t know why. No frosting, though. Do you know how many steps are involved in making brownies from scratch? Get the flour cannister, the sugar cannister, find space on the unbelievably cluttered 2 foot square counter, find the pan, get the butter, grease the pan, remember to turn on the oven after checking that there is nothing I’ve shoved in there to get it out of my sight, find the cocoa, the walnuts, the vanilla. Get out a saucepan and melt the butter with some cocoa, get out the measuring stuff, measure out the dry stuff, don’t forget the eggs stupid, dump everything together, beat the hell out of it, get it into the pan, remember to put the pan in the oven, remember to set the timer so you don’t forget to take the pan back out of the oven, although you may need a note to remind you what the timer is for. Did not mention the taking a five minute break to sit down every five minutes. Wind up too exhausted to get up and cut the brownies when they’re cool enough, so no brownies today anyway. Maybe I don’t want brownies after all. And none of this gets to the cleanup after part, either. As an aside, I used to put the Tupperware container of cat food in the oven, because Simon could open it. _I_ had trouble opening it, but the cat, not so much. Anyway, I was heating the oven when I heard it raining. Upstairs overflowed the tub once and it rained in here, so I checked, but no. Took me a bit to realize. The container had melted enough to have a hole, and the cat food was raining out. One of my funner memories. I still laugh at that. It was good.