So, today, as with every Thursday, I went to babysit at a neighbor's house. Well, not precisely a neighbor, but in the neighborhood. Anyway, the two kids decided they wanted to draw with chalk outside, so I went out with them and the chalk. They got sick of this pretty quickly, though, because it was really windy and cold and the chalk kept rolling places. We went to go back inside, but then I realized I had shut the front door, and it was locked. Ruh roh. Oh well, I thought, the kids wanted to play in the back yard, so we could just go back there. I lifted them both over the fence and then climbed over myself, and they played for a while.

After a while they got bored and wanted a snack, so I went to the back door to let us all in. Now, I should probably mention, just so that I don't sound completely idiotic, the fact that the back door is almost invariably unlocked. But today? Locked. I kinda stood there for a few minutes, then tried the door again, because as we all know, if you have a strong enough sense of denial, reality changes! (Note: this statement is false.)

Anyway, I asked the kids if they knew of any neighbor with a spare key, but the kids are both under the age of 5, and neither of them had any idea. In the end, I boosted them both back over the fence, climbed over, and just went back to my house with them because we couldn't very well sit outside for three hours, and my house is about two minutes away on foot. It all worked out in the end, and we went back in time for their dad to get home and let us in, but damn if I didn't feel like the biggest idiot alive.

In other news, I'm studying Japanese more (whoo!), and checked on the university's dual enrollment program. Juniors are apparently only allowed to take two classes? Hrmm. We shall see.

Yesterday, I went to my friend's house and we decided it would be a good idea to make chocolate chip cookies. How harmless can that be, right? We were using the Joy of Cooking recipe and everything. It's pretty impossible to muddle chocolate chip cookies.

Anyway, I was having a grand old time softening the butter (by which I mean, beating the crap out of it), while my friend was measuring out some other stuff in a separate bowl. She goes over to the recipe and is like, "Okay, one teaspoon of hot water," and then marches over to the sink with the tablespoon. Luckily, before she adds the water, I point out to her that she has the tablespoon, which is very different from the teaspoon. She gives me this "Oh... um... crap" sort of look, but switches the spoons. A few minutes later: "So wait, Nina... what would happen if you added a tablespoon of salt instead of a teaspoon?" Oh dear.

Although a tablespoon of salt had already been added to the flour, when the recipe only called for a teaspoon, we were able to sift some of the excess salt out. Still, the final product was peculiarly salty chocolate chip cookies. They didn't taste inherently bad, but you had to be prepared for the saltiness, or else you'd be in for an unpleasant surprise.

In conclusion: whoever named the measuring spoons shouldn't have given them all names starting with a "t."