While smooshing cookies yesterday, (“Smooshing” is the technical term for lining scooped cookie dough up on sheet pans and flattening it with a slight pressure exerted from the arm through the palm. Not to be confused with “Smooching,” which is a different procedure entirely) an image flashed in my head (Well, maybe less “flashed,” and more “popped”…because lightning flashes, or perhaps scarring memories…this wasn’t like that. Think friendly bubble…Pop!)
You know when cats knead? Maybe if you’re a person of the dog variety you’ve never witnessed this, but cat’s sometimes knead things, like blankets and pillows and perhaps the laps of their owners. They get this glazed-over look and push back and forth with their front two paws and just knead and knead and knead and knead and knead and basically, look like they’ve reached Nirvana…it’s weird, but relatively amazing to watch.
Well, there I was over the cookie dough, using both of my palms, looking sort of glazed over, pressing back and forth and back and forth…
… and I felt like a cat. I kept this to myself.
Later that evening, Darling D, whom I work with in the evenings, was helping me carry the 80-quart mixing bowl to the pot room. Each of us grabbed a handle, lifted, and awkwardly moved forward.
She asked, “Have you ever seen the movie Cool Runnings?”
She then paused and spoke. “When I carry with this bowl, I always feel like I’m carrying a bobsled.”
The next day we went to brunch.