I'm making brownies with my girls for the new neighbors down the street. I sure hope they aren't gluten-free; If they are, is it rude to ask for them back?! 'C' and I took turns scraping the sides of the bowl with colorful rubber spatulas. 'A' licked the metal whisk clean, before moving onto her fingers. Now we wait. For them to bake. For them to cool. For sloppy seconds. Another day in suburbia.