Like the time Max convinced me to milk the cow for him while he feed the chickens. He told me how the chickens were furious when it came to feeding time and that they did not like strangers.   He told me that you had to sneak in when they weren’t looking and grab the eggs and run like heck before they discovered you. If you didn’t make it, it was not a pretty sight. He didn’t elaborate about what wasn’t pretty. Then he went on to explain you had to wash the eggs and it was just a lot of work and he didn’t want to push it off on me. Nice guy.

                However milking the cow was just plum easy. All you had to do was walk up to the cow and tell her that you were here for the milk and the bucket would just practically fill up by itself.

                So being the young and dumb one, I agreed. I should have known that things were going to be bad when the cow ran over me and knocked me rolling while chasing the dog that had got into the corral. After I got rid of the dog I pulled up a stroll and sat down and got to work getting the milk out of the cow. Naturally the mosquitoes were out in force and they were really trying their best to eat that cow and me. I didn’t have to swat them because the cow was doing it for me, and in the process almost beating me to death with her tail. Naturally it was full of fresh cow manure.

                When I was about half done the dog came back and snuck up and nipped that old cow on the heel. She took a kick at that dog and of course I was in way.   She kicked that pail of milk all over me and knocked me rolling in the process.

                I started over again and by the time I had finished milking I was looking like I had been in the middle of a cow manure fight. Of course when I got to the house I found Max sitting on the couch watching TV. He tried to tell me how he had to fight those chickens of f and it was a good thing it wasn’t me, or it might not have been a pretty sight. He then asked me a stupid question, like how did the milking go? 

                We do work together on a lot of projects. Like the day we did the cooking for our mom’s. Funny thing though, ever since then when we mention cooking or helping with the cooking they get right up set with us. Never have figured that one out we thought we did real good. In fact we felt our mom’s were so touched by what we did they couldn’t even speak, they just sat down and cried. Mom’s are so emotional.

                Anyway it all started at my house in the morning with breakfast. Max and me decided to have pancakes and mom was out of the house. We figured ‘what the hey’ we could fix them ourselves. Between the two of us we should be able to figure it out. 

                First we got the skillet down and got it on the stove to get warmed up. Then we got a bowl down to mix everything in. We knew it took eggs, but not how many, half dozen should do. I went to get them out of the refrigerator and on the way back managed to drop a couple. No problem, clean them up later.

                Needed to have milk, how much? No idea but the jug was about half full, should be enough. Max then remembered that we had to have flour. I went to the counter and got the can of flour and started back to where we were working. Things were going pretty good up to then. On the way I slipped on the broken eggs on the floor and down I went with that open canister of flour. I tell you that stuff exploded everywhere; it must have been ten minutes before we could see what we were doing again. I was covered in flour so I went to my room to change leaving white footprints as I went.

                When I got back we continued. We got all the good stuff in a bowl and mixer out, like we had seen our moms do, and set it on high and hit the start button. By the time we had managed to get it turned off the stuff in the bowl was every place and the bowl was empty. Then we smelled smoke.

                We had forgotten about the skillet on the stove and black smoke was rolling out it. We grabbed it and managed to throw it in the sink and turn the water on it. Water was splashing everywhere and steam was a rising when my mom came in the room.

                We explained that we were cooking breakfast and that it would be ready in a minute, but we had to start over as the bowl was empty. That looked like too much work so we decide to skip breakfast. Mom just stood there with her mouth moving but nothing coming out. She sat down in a chair and stared all around, not saying a word. We decided it was time to leave.

                After fooling around exploring and just goofing off for several hours, we decided to go to Max’s house. His mom was out in the garden and after looking around for something to eat we decided to bake a cake. Can’t be any harder than making pancakes and since we had experience there was no need to get his mom. 

                We got the cake mix down and started. As we read the directions, yes we can read, barely. We thought that if a little was good, a lot would be really good. We found the biggest mixing bowl we could and got started. We put the stuff from the box in the bowl along with a lot of flour; we really had a thing about flour. A bunch eggs and milk, just like before. Heck this wasn’t that hard at all. Found a box of baking power still about half full so we dumper all in. Not sure why but we had seen it done before.

                We got the mixer out and got it all set up to go, not stupid, we had learned from the morning adventure so we started out on low. Worked like a charm. After we got the stuff all mixed up we put it in a pan, turned the oven on high and stuffed the cake in there. Shouldn’t take too long.

                We then went to the bedroom and got involved in reading some comic books. One of our favorite past times. After a while I went to the kitchen to check on the cake, just as I walked in the oven door popped open and this stuff that was to be cake, came rolling out. It filled the oven and was rolling out on the floor like the BLOB. 

                “Uh, Max” I said “I think you had better come out here”.

                “Is the cake done?” He asked. “I guess you could say that, but you had better get in here” I replied.

                When he came in the kitchen his eyes bugged out of his head about a foot. As we stood there watching the stuff seemed to keep growing, it covered about five feet of the kitchen floor and was on the move and that was when Max’s mom came in the house.

                She just stood there staring at the stuff and Max tried to explain it was a cake, but he wasn’t getting through to her. She just stood there staring and muttering to herself. She finally sat down and was laughing and crying all at the same time. It must be something that happens to you when you get old.  She finally regained her senses and chased us out of the house. Max and me couldn’t tell her anything so we left to go to our club house.

                Our cooking must of really been something both his mom was so stunned by what we had done she was all choked up and couldn’t even talk.

 

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