This morning marked the return of the FMTP (Friday Morning Treat Program). Don’t look at me, it’s not my acronym. (This is insurance, and IT within insurance. These people would die without acronyms.)

FMTP can also be referred to as: Clamshells of Doom, because all these people ever bring in is grocery store bakery section clamshells of pastries and other baked goods. Mini powdered doughnuts feature regularly.

To wit, this morning’s offering: Farmer’s Market oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, assorted mini Danish, large croissants, and cinnamon buns. (Farmer’s Market is a brand. If any of this shit actually came from the Market, I’d have nothing to bitch about.) Amusingly, Jim asked us yesterday what kinds of things we’d like. We even specified suitable fruits. There are no fruits. Or juice, which he also promised. Bah! (I admit, it never fails to amuse me to suck juice out of a box as a grown up.)

Now, there are a handful of people who try their hands at making things (or get their wives to do it). However, none of these people can cook, and so we have been treated to runny egg-related casserole (dear God…), tiny, rubbery banana muffins, and some lukewarm thing in a Pyrex pan that had dissolving apple slices. Num nums.

Yes, I am an elitist. I CAN cook, and DO, and actually make an effort not to kill these people, so in addition to whatever I make, I also bring fruit, which I explain is a FOOD that is GOOD for YOU. Fruit is, fortunately, sweet, so they seem to eat it without complaint. (Plus I always wash it and cut it up so there’s no effort involved on their part.)

Anyway, I have a multigrain scone recipe from Dana that looks faboo, so that’s what these sad sacks of refined sugar and palm oil I call co-workers will probably be getting next time it’s my turn. 🙂

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