(Side note: I especially related to this exceprt from the book:
"People kept trying to prepare me for how soft and mushy my stomach would be after I gave birth, but I secretly thought, Not this old Buckerina. I think most people undergoing chemo secretly believe they won't lose their hair. Oh but my stomach, she is like a waterbed covered with flannel now. When I lie on my side in bed, my stomach lies politely beside me, like a puppy."
Picture that, and it is exactly like me. A good read. Purchase it used from Amazon for a shiny copper Lincoln. Literally. Operating Instructions: A Journal of My Son's First Year)
But anyway, I wanted cookies. And Jared said, "I'll watch The Doob while you go run to the store to get cookie dough."
I responded, "I could just make it myself."
Jared, "You can do that? Isn't that hard?"
"No. Haven't you ever made cookies before?"
"No. Except maybe one time I helped with sugar cookies."
Seriously?! Something must be wrong with him. Note to self: Make sure to make cookie with Oliver.