A Page From Betty Crocker’s Cookbook (standard:humor, 886 words)
Author: Godspenman	Added: Apr 29 2006	Views/Reads: 3551/2338	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Recently, while sitting in my chair drinking the last of my breakfast coffee, a thought staggered into my mind. I must confess most thoughts are quite lonely once they enter my mind, but this one had a nagging element to it.

Recently, while sitting in my chair drinking the last of my breakfast
coffee, a thought staggered into my mind. I must confess most thoughts 
are quite lonely once they enter my mind, but this one had a nagging 
element to it. 

Experience has taught me I should never give in to these strange
trespassers. Every time I entertain any of them, I'm the one getting 
burnt. 

This time was different. Don't ask me how it was different, or how I
knew it was different, it just was. Of course, looking back I could 
have been wrong. 

The thought: why not surprise my wife by baking her a cake? 

I know what you're thinking. I thought the same thing when this
suggested itself to me. But, the more I thought about it, the more 
delightfully delicious it sounded. How can anything go wrong if I am 
doing it for my wife? 

The only question I needed to answer was what kind of cake should I
bake. 

After a long period of ruminating, I settled on a lemon sponge cake with
peanut butter icing. This was going to be the best surprise my wife has 
ever received from me. 

Sitting in a prominent place in the kitchen is my wife's Betty Crocker
Cookbook. I don't know how long she has had that book, it's been in our 
kitchen for as long as I can remember — which really may not be that 
long when I come to think of it. 

I took the book, sat in my favorite chair and opened it. How do you read
a cookbook? As I leafed through it, it did not have any rhyme or reason 
to me. In musing on the book I said to myself, how important is it to 
follow directions? 

Placing the book back in its revered spot, I concluded that since this
was my cake, I didn't need help from anybody else, particularly Betty 
Crocker. This is the difference between men and women. Women need a lot 
of directions, while men enjoy the liberty of doing their own thing. 

I knew exactly what I wanted. A lemon sponge cake, with peanut butter
icing. What could be simpler? 

Retrieving a large mixing bowl, I assembled all the ingredients I
needed; flour, sugar, eggs, milk and baking powder. Everyone knows you 
cannot bake without baking powder. 

I have no idea what baking powder is, except when you bake you use
baking powder. 

I put everything in the mixing bowl. The only thing I wasn't quite sure
of was the measure, but how hard could that be anyway? Betty Crocker 
mentioned a cup of this and a cup of that, but never defined what she 
meant by a cup. 

I went to the cupboard and looked at all the cups. There were all kinds
and sizes of cups and I did not know which one to use. I eyed a large 
coffee cup and said to myself, this will do just fine. 

I dumped 6 or 8 cups of flour into the mixing bowl, I can't remember how
many. Then I cracked a dozen eggs and put that into the mixing bowl as 
well. Pouring a quart of milk into the mixing bowl, I whipped 
everything into a nice batter. 

This was to be a lemon sponge cake but I could find nothing marked lemon
in the cupboard. I opened the refrigerator, and as luck would have it, 
I found a quart of lemonade. 

I poured this concoction into the largest cake pan I could find. As I
was about to put it into the oven, I remembered the baking powder. How 
is this cake going to bake if it doesn't have the baking powder? 

Setting the cake pan down, I grabbed the baking powder and liberally


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