
Home-made corndogs. Now as a general rule, I am anti-corndog. Emma isn't allowed to order them when we eat out, because the commercial ones are just disgusting and contain who knows what.
But these are OK, I think. I serve cornbread on a regular basis, and hot dogs on occasion (as long as I can pick out the brand I like, without all the chemicals). So... cornbread from scratch, with hotdog pieces baked in. I can do that.
These earned me an amazed look and a hug that nearly knocked me over.
"You made corndogs? You made CORNDOGS? You MADE corndogs? You're the best mom ever!"

The first four corndogs disappeared in short order, and the rest are in the freezer to be pulled out as needed. Perhaps as bribes to get the resident pre-teen to clean her room....
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