Crayola Turds.

I love when humor is handed to you. I think it’s the universe’s way of saying, “Here, you look like you could use this today.” This was one of those times.

Two days ago, I posted this picture on Facebook:

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You’d think after nibbling on one, he wouldn’t want to try it again.

I captioned it with a witty bit about Little Man’s teeth marks in the crayons.

Today, after I baked the most delicious concoction of a cookie my sweet tooth has ever made love to (desert is no joke in my house), my husband deemed the cookies, Crayola Turds.  Lets see if you can figure out why…

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Crude humor is second nature to me, so this is a level of funny that I couldn’t help but share. No, I did not plan for this joke by adding yellow and orange, Reese pieces to these magnificent cookies. And yes, I had to put the cookie in the diaper for the effect.

These cookies will now and forever be known as, Crayola Turds.

Now that is some funny shit!

 

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11 thoughts on “Crayola Turds.

  1. Can’t wait to hear about
    a – peoples expressions when you tell them the name of the cookies
    b-their reactions when you tell them the why.

    Very fun, very tasting looking!

    • Funny story actually. The day after I made these, and the hubs coined the name, we had a huge snow storm. In the middle of the storm, I get a call from the Home Depot delivery guys saying they are on my way to my house to deliver our new dishwasher. I could not believe they were out driving in the mess!

      When they got to the house, I had put together a plate full of cookies for them. Not thinking about how insane this would sound out of context, I said, “I’m so thankful you guys brought me my new dishwasher, here are some cookies I baked. We call them Crayola turds and they are delicious.”

      The look on their faces was like, Um yeah. I was laughing pretty hard and probably looked like a lunatic. I didn’t even bother trying to explain the name. Do you think they actually ate them??? lol

  2. Pingback: Coffee Dates: A Slice of Sanity for a SAHM. | W.T.F.

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