I was browsing Pinterest, as I usually do, when a Pin jumps out at me. It is a picture of a chocolate cookie inside a bowl, with the recipe above. Seems simple enough. I don’t usually get Pins like this, so why not try it?

I begin with the brown sugar, which I, for some reason, cannot find. The sensible place would be next to the white sugar, but in the ceramic container next to it is just… a rock? With a strange bear? How would a rock the exact size of the container get in this shape of container? I decide not to question it and move on.

I check the spices, nothing. I check the shelf underneath the spices, nothing. Where is the brown sugar? I sigh, pulling out my phone and texting my mom.

Where is the brown sugar?

I wait for a reply, just sitting on a stool at the counter.

Next to the white sugar. Why?

You’re kidding me. The brown sugar is… the rock? Is it the bear?

I need it for a cookie. I saw a Pin on Pinterest and thought it would be fun.

I wait a while for a reply, my anxiety kicking in. Why is it taking her so long to reply? Did she encounter an extra difficult customer? Did her manager catch her texting and fire her? Why?

Oh! Well in that case I have a sugar bear inside the ceramic container next to the white sugar to keep the brown sugar from clumping into a rock.

I look at the screen worriedly… what do I do if it is already a rock?

I then text my friend, Yana, who is much better at making things than me.

What is a sugar bear?

She responds, jokingly.

A bear

That dances

In sugar

 🤩

I grin for a moment, then my anxiety returns.

Yana help I have no idea what a sugar bear is and my mom says its supposed to keep the brown sugar from rocking but the sugar is already a rock what do I do

She responds rather quickly, realization seemingly dawning upon her.

Ohhhh you have to soak it in water, but it usually takes a few hours.

My eyes widen. A few hours? But my dental appointment is in a few hours! I don’t have hours!

Okay, thank you.

I immediately grab a bowl and fill it with water, placing the sugar bear in the water and move on to add the other ingredients, the egg yolk proving to be difficult. But I somehow separated it from the egg white, and added it into the mix.

Once done, I begin to stir the mixture, taking the sugar bear from the water and placing it in the brown sugar. Hopefully there wasn’t a chronological order to the ingredients or anything, because if there was then I most definitely failed.

The cookie dough is strangely difficult to stir. Like, extremely difficult. The chocolate chips seem to trump all the other ingredients.

What if I add the egg whites?

Couldn’t hurt, right?

I grab an egg, chanting to myself, “No one will know, no one will know that you wasted an egg yolk, no one will know, no one needs to know,” and crack the egg on the edge of the mixing bowl. Luckily, the egg whites seem to just flow out of the tiny hole, while the hole is too small for the egg yolk. I begin to stir again, this time the task being much more easy.

I finish stirring, and look at the sugar bear. I guess I’ll just have to dump the little amount of brown sugar into the mixing bowl. Hopefully I’ll have enough.

I stir again, mixing the brown sugar in with the rest of the dough. I glance at the instructions, which say to microwave the cookie dough for 40-60 seconds. I smile. Maybe I made a decent cookie.

I place the bowl of dough inside the microwave and set the timer for 50 seconds, and wait. As the timer beeps, I waste no time in opening the door of the microwave and leaning inside, gazing at my cookie.

Except… it doesn't look like a cookie.

More like… a scrambled egg? But with chocolate chips.

I grimace, and grab a fork, poking the cookie. Disturbingly soft. I close the door and set the timer for another 10 seconds.

Still soft.

I begin to panic. What have I done wrong? What it wrong with my cookie?

Another 40 seconds. Another 50. The supposed “cookie” does not look anything like a cookie. I have failed.

I send Yana a picture of the cookie.

This is not a cookie Yana. I added egg whites. I have failed.

It takes her a moment to respond.

That’s a cookie?

I snort, a smile forming across my face.

Haha, I know. It looks more like a scrambled egg. Probably because of the EGG WHITES

I take the bowl out of the microwave, and place it on the counter, right as my little sister, Vivian, enters the kitchen. “What is that?” She points at my cookie.

I smile at her, pained. “A cookie. Want some?”

She nods, disregarding the look of the imposter cookie.

Taking a bite, she smiles and says, “It tastes like cookies! I don’t see anything wrong with it.”

I nod. “Then you won't mind eating the entire cookie then?”

She looks at me, excited. “I can have it all?”

I smile, discreetly flaring my nostrils at the cookie. “Of course. Just let me have a bite.”

She nods, and gets an extra fork, handing it to me. I stab into the “cookie”, which is tougher than I thought it would be, probably because of how many times I microwaved it, and reluctantly put the bite into my mouth.

I slowly chew it, cringing as I do so. This cookie is disgusting. This is why I can only make pancakes. Oh dear.