I made these Sunday
They are delicious.
So much so that, the next morning,--early Monday morning, I had the strangest dream...
I dreamed that all my siblings were spending the night at my house. (This really WAS a dream!)
Picture also from lizzy.
For some reason, the lights didn't work, so everything was dark.
Steve got up early to go to work and he ate a cinnamon roll.
I dreamed that I was sleeping in my bed dreaming of eating one too.
Some of my siblings were awake and moving about the house.
I could hear them.
I thought, "No one better eat my cinnamon roll."
In my dream, I slept a little more. (I am actually THAT boring, that I dream of myself sleeping.)
Then I woke up and stumbled through the dark into the kitchen.
I opened the fridge.
They were gone.
"How did all the cinnamon rolls get eaten!? They were mine! I made them and no one even saved me one?!"
The lights came on and the guilty looks from all my siblings told me what they did.
Then I woke up...for reals.
And realized I had 6 glorious cinnamon rolls waiting for me and only me.
Middle-child-paranoia never really dies, does it.
That is how much I love these.