Stupid, Stupid Brownies

I am an FHE mom in my ward. That means I am in charge of planning/executing family home evening for my apartment as well as three other apartments. No big deal up until tonight. I was going to make brownies for dessert because:

1. Brownies are a delicious treat

2. Brownies from a box are easy

3. It was all I had time for

So I made brownies. But here is a little known fact about me: I ruin brownie mixes. I have made probably 6 boxes of brownies in my day. The success rate thusfar is zero percent. True fact.

But this time was going to be different. I followed the box directions exactly. I sprayed the pan and I made sure everything was perfect before I put them in the oven. This is how they came out. Don't they look delicious?! I thought so.

It's a lie. Take a closer look. There is goopy in the middle. It is still a full-on batter in the middle.

By the time I realized this, 7:28 was rapidly ending and I was going to be late. But these brownies were going to turn out if it killed me! So I cranked up the oven to 500 degrees and threw the brownies in for a few more minutes. After what seemed like a reasonable amount of time (by this point I was about 15 minutes late) I pulled the brownies out and checked them out again. They actually looked okay. Hooray for brownie mixes! Being in a rush, I committed a horrible error (knowingly). I tried to scrape them out before they had cooled enough. So they balled up like this:

I was mad. I knew I shouldn't have done it, but I was in a rush. How could I, the mother of the group, be late? It was unthinkable! So I kept scraping. Soon, I came to the middle of the pan. Still goopy. I was TICKED. I was livid beyond reason. Then I got frustrated with myself for not being able to bake from a box.

8:00 was upon me and I was lacking a treat for my children. What a horrible mother I was!

Time for a bit of background: I had a rough weekend. So lets do the math.

1 rough weekend + 1 bad batch of brownies + 1 bad history with box brownies + not fulfilling motherly duties = angry tears.

I cried over brownies. BOXED brownies. I cried and cried. I skipped FHE altogether and sat on my bedroom floor with a tissue and moped. I cried for my rough weekend, I cried for not having a treat ready on time, but mostly I cried for those stupid, stupid brownies.

I can make fancy-schmancy cakes from scratch:

I make delicious cookies and frosting from scratch:

But I will never be able to make a batch of brownies from a box. Woe is me!