Bad Flashback

Currently my timer is set for 30 minutes (for my tomatoes in their merry little water bath...yes the tomato canning goes on).  My challenge: write, finish, and post this blog before that timer goes off.

Earlier this summer I decided, at Brian's behest, to bake a batch of monster cookies.  I'm not really much of a monster cookie person, but I love to bake and I love it when others love to eat my baked goods.  I was trying out a new-to-me recipe from my brother-in-law's grandmother that they touted as the best.  After using all the items that can be found in one's kitchen and then going to extraordinary lengths to mix the massive amounts of batter, it was time to bake the crazy things. 

The instructions had me using two timers.  The cookies had to bake for 13 minutes and then upon leaving the oven they had to sit on the cookie sheet for an additional five minutes before removing them.  So I constantly had a timer going for five minutes and one going for 13.  I wanted to be productive during the baking because, as I said, there was so much batter I could have a made a king-sized bedspread out of it, and I knew that baking was going to be an all-afternoon affair. 

It started innocently.  I thought to myself, "Oh I bet I could get the bed made before the five-minute timer goes off."  And I'd pad off and do it.  And then I had another eight minutes and so I'd think "huh, I can get the litter boxes scooped before my second timer goes off."  When that was done and I had five minutes remaining so I decided that I could probably water the plants out front before the timer went off. 

And that is when the monster awoke within me.  In those five and eight minute intervals I came up with dozens of tasks with which to challenge myself.  I literally ran from one end of the house to the other.  Sometimes I was running around outside.  My heart would be palpitating wondering if I could possibly accomplish each task before that timer went off.  I found that I was struck with panic at the thought of the timer beating me.  I cleaned out bird feeders, started supper, cleaned the toilet, dusted things, I mean the list could go on and on. 

At the end of that baking spree I was EXHAUSTED, but wow I had accomplished so much!  I decided I should always set a timer.  And then I started to have an uneasy feeling, remembering the panic the timer caused me to experience.  And then the flashbacks began.  Flashbacks to my childhood.  I knew, just knew, that timers had been set for me as a youngster in order for me to accomplish things.  I knew that my mother was the responsible party.

I thought perhaps it had been a fun game she had made up in order to motivate us.  It couldn't possibly be that my saint mother had set timers up for us that we had to beat in order to, well, not be beat?

So I called my mother and asked her if she had set timers for my sister and I when we were little.  She said yes.  I quickly asked her if it was a fun game or something we had to do in order to avoid punishment.  (As in, "You better get that room cleaned up before this timer goes off or else I'm going to......")  She laughed on the phone, and her laughter had a sinister and dark edge to it, and she replied, "Oh no, it was for punishment.  And it worked great.  I don't know why but you kids were so terrified of that timer." 

Mom, it's because I was six and I DIDN'T UNDERSTAND TIME!  Nine minutes could be any length of time and I had no idea how long nine minutes felt!  I barely knew how to count for the love of Pete!  Oh cruel, cruel keeper of the time.  I can just imagine her down in her "ivory kitchen" watching that timer: leisurely thumbing through a magazine and enjoying a soft drink, listening to our panic, our cries for mercy, as she plotted out which punishment she would dole out on her helpless children who just didn't understand how to tell time yet.  Would it be sitting on a chair, receiving the wooden spoon, the fly-swatter, taking a bath, IT COULD BE ANYTHING! 

I have the cold sweats right now knowing that my tomato timer could go off at any second and I might not have yet posted this blog.  And then I will have failed.  Please, parents, use caution when employing the use of the kitchen timer on your children.  Must go now...

P.S.  I made it within the allotted time.  Whew.  And you should also know that those monster cookies made a believer out of me.  They were every bit as good as Karen and Matthew let on.  If you'd like the recipe, let me know.