I suck at a lot of things.  Parallel parking.  Statistics.  Singing.  Suck, suck and super suck.

Baking is not one of those things.  I’m not ready to go spatula-y-spatula with Bakerella or anything, but I’m pretty good at it.  Strawberry rhubarb pie?  Fo-sho.  Triple berry crisp?  Easy peasy.  Chocolate chip cookies?  Puhlease.  I can whip those suckas out in my sleep.

Enter Colorado Springs – elevation 6,000 feet.  Also enter Finn’s current obsession with marshmallows.  Add a dash of baking soda and some vanilla extract and you got-yo-selves a recipie for DISASTER.

At first, I was like, “Yeah.”

And then I was like “Yeaa-he-ah.”

And as I was spooning them on to the cookie sheet, Nathan was eye-level with them and was like “Yeah…”

But a few minutes later, I was all “Oh.  No.”

And a few minutes after that, I was like, “OH.  No, no, no…”

But when we started eating them, holylordohmygod.  They were FANTASTIC.  Ugly, but ah.may.zing.  The marshmallows had carmelized, leaving them full of sorta crispy and toffee-ish.  You know that layer on the top of Creme Brulee, the one that makes it “Brulee?”

Yeah.  That.

They were magnificent.  A mess-terpiece, if you will.  I’m just gonna chalk this one up to the difference in elevation.  (Even though I know it is because I put the marshmallows in them.  Whatever.)