Here's the thing, cats don't ask questions. They are more directive. "Love me." "Feed me." "Move over." But we had a holiday to celebrate so I listened very carefully to our cats and they did, indeed, have questions.
Ellie asked, "Can you get that @$*%ing camera out of my face? Can't you see I'm trying to sleep?" I replied, "Certainly, your highness. Forgive me, your highness," while bowing deeply and backing out of the room.
So I went to find Louie.
Louie said, "Where the @#$* have you been? Don't you know it's time for my morning chin rub?" To which I replied, "Yes, Master Louis. Right away, Master Louis."
After that, I couldn't even find Maxi to answer her questions. I think she was fairly disgusted with the whole thing. Can't really blame her. I'm pretty sure if I found her, her question would have been along the lines of, "Are @&$%ing kidding me? Isn't there some better holiday to celebrate that doesn't include those two knuckleheads?" And I would have answered, "Why, yes, sweet Maxi, there is a better holiday! It's Blonde Brownie Day too! Meet me in the kitchen and I'll get you a treat." (She's an old, cranky Alabama street cat. We have to suck up to her or she'll take us out in our sleep.)
So I was off to the kitchen to whip up some blonde brownies. Yum.
My mom used to make blonde brownies when I was growing up so they are a fan favorite around here. I use the same recipe she did:
And here they are in all their glory-
Holy Shmoly they are delicious. And, no, Ellie & Louie, you cannot have one.
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