When I pulled in the driveway last night, the girl who lives two houses down came over with the cookie dough she had talked me into buying a couple of months ago.
She was selling magazines and cookie dough to raise money for her school's class trip, and while I really didn't want to buy anything, I could totally empathize, because I remember having to go door-to-door selling boxes of fruit for the marching band, and it royally sucked. Plus, I had already turned down her little brother when he came around selling entertainment books, so I was feeling kind of guilty.
So anyway, the cookie dough landed last night, and natch, the first thing I did was grab a spoon. "Rocky Road Surprise" was the dough I had ordered, and I kind of figured the "surprise" was that three pounds of dough cost fourteen bucks. I dug in, and man, that stuff was good. I stood at the counter, staring into space and shoveling in the cookie dough, as vague thoughts of salmonella flitted through my mind.
And then I started reading the container, and guess what? One cookie has a hundred and thirty calories.
I think I had downed about a thousand calories' worth of dough before I read that little tidbit.