Fun Dementor

When I fail to fulfill requests by the resident teenager, I am called The Fun Dementor. They claim that I suck fun out of any room I'm in, making them feel like they'll never have fun ever again.

After making waffles for everybody this morning and then spending the rest of the morning cleaning, I wasn't really in the mood to say yes when George and his faithful sidekick Gordon asked if they could make cookie dough.

Now, any parent with their wits about them will know that if they wanted to "make cookies" then that's what they would have asked. No, they asked if they could make cookie dough. That meant that they'd sit on the sofa, playing on the X-box and eating the raw dough, leaving the kitchen upside down. I just spent AGES getting the kitchen clean. Naturally they promised that they would clean up afterwards but I just couldn't face what would happen to my nice clean kitchen if I let them in there. I was called a Fun Dementor. Then guilt set in. . . .

I went in myself and made chocolate chip cookie dough. I can be much tidier. After the cookie dough was made, I got out the kitchen scales and weighed out 5 oz of cookie dough into two cereal bowls. I presented the bowls of dough to the boys on the sofa. I then I thought I'd use the remaining dough to actually make chocolate chip cookies. While the cookies were baking, I came into the office to write.
Because I wasn't paying attention to the time, I let all the cookies burn. There isn't a single one that is salvageable. They are all completely carbonized. Fun dementors will do that sort of thing. They will fail at doing fun things even when they try. Such is the nature of a fun dementor.

The chickens will be happy because they'll get them all.