I’m in the middle of Katie’s Cookie Kitchen this morning, getting ready for the garage/bake sale extravaganza tomorrow morning.

Just so you have an idea.  These are 4 of my 6 cookie sheet pans.

And I have a huge coffee cake in the oven.

Since all four kiddos are in school for approximately the next 3 hours and 45 minutes, I am baking alone.  Read:  efficiently and less messy than with my faithful sidekick, Allie.

I lined up my all of my ingredients and mixer, ready to tackle the overwhelming project of baking and bagging a zillion cookies.

You can imagine my surprise when I went to scoop the sugar and my silver measuring cup started clanging against something hard in the sugar canister.

What in the world?

My mind quickly thought, why is there a huge clump of sugar balled up in here?  How did I not notice that when I poured the sugar from the bag in to the canister?  I’ve never known white sugar to harden like brown sugar?  Should I start putting a piece of bread in the canister to keep it soft?

And then I gently kept scooping with my measuring cup to reveal…

A spoon.

Like a tablespoon.

Not a measuring spoon.

A table spoon.

Like that you eat cereal with.

One of my precious children has been sneaking and eating sugar out of the canister.

My guess?

The one who calls me “woman.”