The Brownies

I recently tried to bake a pan of Brownies for a church event.  I dragged out all the ingredients, bowls, pot holders and baking tins, then discovered much to my dismay that I was seriously deficient in measuring spoons and cups.  Yes, I had the 1 cup orange plastic one and the gaudy green glass ¼ cup, I also had a blue ⅓ tsp and an orange ½ tbsp.

Reading through the recipe I discovered I needed to mix three ¾ cup of flour with ¼ tsp. of salt among other things.  Staring at the orange plastic cup and the blue ⅛ tsp I decided to wing it.  How hard could it be?

I have never been very good at math.  Just start talking about numbers and my brain instantly freezes.  However, there are times when I actually do have to use my lousy math skills.  I decided this was one of them.

I peered nervously at the instructions. Well ⅝ c. flour, isn’t that a bit unusual? I thought.  Ok, let’s see ⅜ c. equals 6 tbsps. I think, so I guess I would have to put 6 tbsps. and a little bit more in the bowl, but how much more?  I carefully measured the flour into the bowl, not knowing quite how much to use I simply heaped the tbsps. hoping that might somehow compensate for my lack of understanding.

After the dry ingredients were measured into the bowl, it was time to mix in the butter, milk and vanilla. I stared at the recipe in utter disbelief. I didn’t have any of the proper measuring implements! 

I got a piece of paper and a pencil determined that I was going to work out this puzzle.  Soon my paper was covered in meaningless numbers, wild attempts at multiplication, subtraction and fractions.  I was beginning to sweat.  I glanced up at the wall clock. It was dangerously close to time for the meeting.  What was I going to do?

My daughter wandered into the kitchen and asked, “What are you trying to do?” as she bent over my paper with a look of horror on her face.

“I’m trying to make Brownies for my meeting tonight, but I just don’t have the right measuring cups.” I answered in what I hoped was a positive tone of voice.

She stared at me for a minute before dissolving in a fit of giggles.  “I think you need a calculator for that.”