The Cake Mixes

When I was 15, I had my first real boyfriend.  His birthday is around Thanksgiving and I really wanted to bake a cake for him. I cannot for the life of me remember why I wanted to bake a cake for him, but I wanted to. I will disclose upfront that when I was 15, I was not the baker that I am today.
  I setup shop in the kitchen one afternoon.  I opened the box of cake mix and put it in the bowl.  Then I added the three eggs and water.  I poured the batter into the pan, threw it in the oven, and waited.  When the timer beeped, something just did not look right.  {Or taste right}  I forgot the oil!  Dang!
Ok.  I will try this again.  Don't forget the oil!  I opened the box of cake mix and put it in the bowl.  Then I added the water and the oil.  I poured the batter into the pan, threw it in the oven, and waited.  When the timer beeped, something just did not look right, again.  I forgot the eggs!  Double Dang!
Let's give this another try.  I opened the box of cake mix and put it in the bowl. Then I added the oil and the eggs, and the oil. I poured the batter into the pan, threw it in the oven, and waited. When the timer beeped, something just did not look right. It was still batter! I put oil in place of the water!  1 1/2 cups of oil!  Triple Dang! What is my stinkin' problem?
At this point my mom was a little irritated with me, and it was starting to get late.  We went to the store since I had used all the cake mix in the house and probably all the eggs.  This time she stood right over me.  First the eggs.  Then the water.  Now the oil.  Finally, I "remembered" all the ingredients. It turned out.  I honestly cannot remember if he liked it, and I will never know why I messed up so many times.  It was an event that my brother never let me live down.  That and the giant cookie.

Ok I'll tell you about the giant cookie really really fast.

I think this may have happened the same year as all the cake mixes. My brother, younger sister, and I were all at home one evening.  I had the brilliant idea to make a cookie cake.  In the beginning, my younger siblings were all for the idea until it came out of the oven.  We did not have any chocolate chips in the house.  I decided to make a giant sugar cookie.  Don't ask why I thought this was brilliant.  I got out one of my mom's cookbooks.  Turned to the cookie section and found a sugar cookie recipe.  I followed the instructions. Then I put all of the dough onto our pizza pan, spread it out to form one giant cookie, and baked it until it was done.  It came out of the oven a masterpiece.  Then we cut ourselves a piece.  It wasn't spit it out bad, but it did not taste like a cookie.  It tasted like some strange cornbread concoction. It was strange and my brother never let me live it down.  Apparently, to brothers, your cooking skills at the age of 15 determine your cooking skills for life.  {Thank the Lord that is not true!  My family would be really hungry if it were}