Well, I happened to be making the chocolate peanut butter banana treats when a gaggle of little boys swarmed through my kitchen. (No lie - I had between 8-12 of them in my home at various times today.) And when they saw those rice crispie treats they went nuts.
"I'm hungry!" "I want a snack!" "I'm STARRRRVVVVIIINNNGGGG!!!"
Well, you can't argue with an insensible gaggle of little boys. But neither can you give them a pan of treats that need to be refrigerated for two hours.
So instead I decided to try the Cake Batter rice crispie treat recipe my that BFF Gigi sent to me when she heard about the DEATH MATCH.
(Side note: Am I cool enough to get away with using the term BFF? I didn't think so. Dang.)
Here were the results (with obligatory caption on the photo):
These were actually pretty tasty. There was a very distinct birthday cake flavor, which I liked. I think if I made these again I would add more cake batter, just to get more flavor. Also, I might try another flavor, like strawberry. However, this recipe only calls for 1/3 cup of cake mix, so I'm not gonna go out and buy a bunch of mixes just to test flavors, because then what do I do with the rest of the mix? (My leftover mix is currently in the freezer until I come up with some idea. Or make more rice crispie treats.)
So although I will most likely make these again in the future, I don't know that these are quite worthy of ETERNAL FAME AND GLORY. Sorry, Gig.
Oh - and how did the gaggle of little boys like them? Well, by the time the treats were done only this many boys remained.
Oops. Cut your face out of that shot, Andrew. Let's try again:
Well dang. That's not any better. How did Tess like them? (I gave her a tiny strip.) She did not like them - too sticky for her. She kept getting them stuck on her fingers and then successfully flinging them all over the kitchen.
*******
On a completely unrelated note...
This story probably deserves its own post, but I'm too lazy to start a fourth one for the day.
While I was making these treats, J's dad came to the door. (J lives right next door, and his father works for the Sheriff's office. I don't know whether or not they'd want their names on here, so we'll just stick with J and J's Dad.) This little scene ensued:
J's Dad: Hi Maren! Can I steal J? I need to go run a quick errand.
Me: Oh, he's downstairs playing with all the boys. You can just leave him here, if you want. I really don't mind.
J's Dad: Well, that's okay, I don't know how long the errand will take, and I know you have a lot of kids here.
Me: Really, it's no bother! One more boy doesn't make much difference. I've got it all under control. (A phrase, I might add, that I never use. Why?! Why did I use it then?!)
It was at this point that Cole came streaking through the living room and up to me, diaperless and loudly singing the ABCs while taking drunken swigs from his sippy cup.
Me: I'll go get J.
Yeah, I think that pretty much sums it all up right there.
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