My mom and I loaded up the girls and hit some yard sales on Saturday, because you know I love me some yard sales. Finding quality items at rock bottom prices – Hello Baby Gap overalls for $1.00! – I can’t think of a better way to spend a Saturday.
It seems that Julia has inherited the yard sale gene. She took along a plastic glitter Easter egg filled with coins she’d stolen from my purse so she could shop. And color me an asshole, but somehow we ended up coming home with a bunch of junk for Julia and her Easter egg was none the lighter.
Her treasures included a cute little flower play-doh extruder, a free (I’m rolling my eyes here) Boobah toy (because we don’t do Boobah) and a stinkin’ Easy Bake Oven. Actually, it wasn’t even an Easy Bake Oven; it was a knock-off – a TastyBake Oven.
I tried not to get it. I used everything in my arsenal: reasoning, distraction, bribery. None of it worked. The kid dragged that box around after me through the whole sale and when I finally went to pay for my freaking awesome brand new pasta pot strainer still sealed in the box for 75% off the regular purchase price, she shouted, “Don’t forget to pay for my oven, Mommy. I’m going to bake you cupcakes!”
“We can do that with the regular oven,” I said.
“It’s only a dollar,” the yard sale lady offered.
And so, Julia procured an old ass Easy Bake Oven wannabe with a dust coating so thick, it looked like it’d been in storage since 1978.
The moment we pulled into our driveway, she began asking to use it and continued asking every thirty seconds as I nursed Lucy and went to the bathroom. Just as my eye was starting to twitch, we opened the box. It contained one stupid TastyBake oven. The utensils and the oh-so-crucial tiny pan were missing. I recommended that we forgo the TastyBake and simply make something in the real oven, but that just wouldn’t do. So, I cleaned the TastyBake oven while Julia recited its benefits, the most important being the ability to do it all by herself.
I fashioned a tiny pan from foil cupcake cups. We plugged the oven in for the 20 minute preheat. It smelled bad. Julia prepared a brownie mix and spooned a few tablespoons into her makeshift tiny pan and waited anxiously. I poured the rest into a muffin pan to make brownie bites in my real oven. Julia waited some more, then put her tiny pan in the fully preheated TastyBake oven and pressed the fake buttons. Moments later, my brownie bites were finished. We ate them.
Thirty minutes later, her TastyBake brownie was ready. Sort of. One half was baked to perfection, while the other half was still gooey and batter-like. Then, she refused to eat it because I pulled it out, which meant she didn’t get to do it all by herself.
Mother flippin’ TastyBake Oven. I hate you.