Dear Future Man Friend,
While we haven’t found each other quite yet, I wanted to warn you that when we do finally meet, I’ll probably be mean to you. But don’t worry! It just means I like you and haven’t progressed passed 2nd grade in the maturity department. Back in Mrs. Schneeweis’ class, I am pretty sure I told Braeden Kleven I hated his hypercolor t-shirt, but that was only because (a) I had a crush on this 2nd-grade hottie, and (b) I really wanted a hypercolor t-shirt.
And when we do meet, please wear a hypercolor t-shirt? It would make it really easy to spot you.
It would also be really easy to spot you if your name could be Jake Gyllenhaal. Now that I think about it, I realize I don’t really care what your name is as long as you are wearing beat-up Converse sneakers. Beat-up Converse forgives all…even if your name is Jack Goff.
Speaking of names, I reserve the right to name all of our children. In fact, I already have their names picked out. Although, since I don’t know YOUR name, I might need to hold off on any final decisions just to make sure your last name isn’t Goff.
Because I really like the name Jack.
Have I told you lately that I love you? Or that I have an unhealthy obsession with singing Olivia Newton-John songs? Or that I can recite every single line and every single lyric from the movie Grease? Or that I like getting physical on a daily basis?
But when I say ‘getting physical,’ I do mean physical activity. I am an active Everythingtarian, so I am crossing my pudgy fingers that you are too. Hiking, biking, running, playing tennis, walking, booty-popping…and afterwards, we can most definitely bump
uglies fists in celebration.
Sooo…you’re probably thinking I talk a lot. And make random demands from someone I don’t even know yet. And that you’re not sure if you want to be with someone who sings songs from 1970s musicals and likes t-shirts that turn shades when you breathe on them.
I’m going to be honest with you: I’ll probably exploit you on my blog…get upset with you when you don’t want to watch Dance Moms or Big, Rich Texas with me…leave three days of dirty dishes in the sink…argue with you until you’re so exasperated with my absurd stubbornness that you destroy my only copy of Grease 2 (which probably isn’t a bad thing)…incessantly interrupt you when you’re trying to tell me a story…and regale you with endless hours of interpretive dancing, including my infamous ‘mom dance.’
But I swear I have a lot to give too!
I’ll make you laugh…even if it is at my horrible TV choices.
I’m open-minded and accepting…I won’t make you change who you are, unless you’re name really is Jack Goff. Then, the name’s gotta go.
I’ll happily support you in any endeavor, choice, action or idea you want to make happen…and if that endeavor ends up being traveling the world together, then all the better.
And after we do meet and you swear you’ll never date me because of how mean I am to you, I promise to make you a batch of these brownies to make up for it.
I’ll even throw in an extra interpretive dance if you’re wearing Converses.
Sharon’s Crunchy Crack Brownies
adapted from Sharon Sutliff, my friend’s mom
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter
2 cups sugar
6 T cocoa powder
1 cup flour
2 t vanilla extract
1/2 t salt
1/2 t baking powder
1 small jar marshmallow cream
1 cup peanut butter
2 cups chocolate chips
3 cups Rice Krispies cereal
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
With a mixer, cream together butter, sugar and eggs. Fold in cocoa powder, flour, vanilla, salt and baking powder. Pour batter into a 9×13″ pan, and bake for 25 to 30 minutes, or until toothpick comes out clean. Cool.
Spread the marshmallow cream in an even layer once brownies have cooled. Set aside.
Melt peanut butter and chocolate chips in a microwave-safe dish in 30 second intervals, stirring between cooking. Once melted, mix in Rice Krispies and stir to evenly coat cereal. Spread Rice Krispies mixture over the marshmallow cream in an even layer.
Refrigerate until firm. Cut into squares, and enjoy!
*inspired by my lovely friend Mackenzie