We took a road trip last Saturday (more on where we went later), and I decided to do a little baking for the trip.
Biscuit and Jeff both love chocolate (WAY more than I do), so I made some brownies.
I made them Friday evening, and as I walked into the kitchen Monday evening, almost all of the brownies were gone.
"What happened to all the brownies?" I asked Biscuit.
"Oh ... uh ... I only had, like, one or maybe two, Mom," Biscuit said.
Then I looked at Jeff.
"What are you looking at me for?" Jeff asked, trying to sound put out.
I'm not sure if Biscuit was feeling guilty or what, but then he said, without me asking again, "Mom ... really ... I only had one."
"Okay," I said and went back to cleaning off the kitchen counter.
Then out of nowhere, Biscuit said, "Maybe they disintegrated."
I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.
"No. 1, you get points for knowing and using correctly the word 'disintegrated.'" I said. "And No. 2 ... I don't think so!"
I still don't know who ate all the brownies, but I'm betting it was a joint effort.