(no subject)
"What's the fuckin' difference between a big T and a little T?" Dodge muttered to himself as he read the book on the counter. There was a pretty picture of a muffin and he was going to make that muffin if it killed him. He'd figured out the C in the recipe meant cups. But a big T and a little T...no fuckin' clue. Tablesppon? Teaspoon? He held a soup spoon and stared at it like it might give him the answer. Finally he decided that it didn't really matter. What was the worst that might happen? He'd just put in some berries or some shit and it'd be good.
Armed with the new confidence that came with not giving a fuck, Dodge began adding scoops by the soup spoon full to the flour that he'd carefully measured with a coffee cup. Spoon full of baking soda, half a spoon of salt, a drippy spoonful of vanilla. Milk. Eggs...he was on top of this shit. The batter was kind of runny but whatever. It would be good. He threw in a handful of raw berries, then added another handful. He was pretty damned proud of himself.
By the time he was done it was just his cookbook, one metal spoon, one coffee mug, and a mixing bowl full of floury, fruity soup. Now all he had to do was find a muffin tin.
"Not so fuckin' hard. I can cook," he mumbled as he banged around in the cupboard. He found the muffin pan and stood up and flashed a sheepish smile. "I swear to god I wasn't talking to myself."
Armed with the new confidence that came with not giving a fuck, Dodge began adding scoops by the soup spoon full to the flour that he'd carefully measured with a coffee cup. Spoon full of baking soda, half a spoon of salt, a drippy spoonful of vanilla. Milk. Eggs...he was on top of this shit. The batter was kind of runny but whatever. It would be good. He threw in a handful of raw berries, then added another handful. He was pretty damned proud of himself.
By the time he was done it was just his cookbook, one metal spoon, one coffee mug, and a mixing bowl full of floury, fruity soup. Now all he had to do was find a muffin tin.
"Not so fuckin' hard. I can cook," he mumbled as he banged around in the cupboard. He found the muffin pan and stood up and flashed a sheepish smile. "I swear to god I wasn't talking to myself."