I own a rolling pin. It’s wooden and simple, with red handles to match my kitchen because everyone knows matching is a critical element when choosing utensils and appliances. I don’t specifically remember, but I’m fairly certain I stood in the rolling pin aisle and disregarded everything from brand name to price tag when I saw those red handles.
I own a rolling pin. And I’ve used it exactly twice.
Both rolling pin occasions were during the holidays when I used it to roll out store-bought sugar cookie dough so my kiddo could poke the dough full of cookie cutters and smother it with sprinkles within an inch of its life. I’ve never used it to make a pie. I’ve never even felt the itch of inspiration a cute rolling pin might trigger to actually drag out a recipe and really, truly make something from scratch.
I’m just not that kinda girl.
Despite Pinterest‘s best efforts, I’m the kind of girl who owns a cute rolling pin but only kinda sorta knows what to do with it. I’m the kind of girl who isn’t ashamed of making Christmas cookies with store-bought dough and feels relieved — and right at home — when she shows up to a friend‘s house to make said Christmas cookies only to discover that her kindred-spirited friend bought a big bucket of raw sugar cookie goodness from Sam’s Club, just for the occasion.
And this week I realized I’m also the kind of girl who leaves her cute, red-handled rolling pin at her friend’s house. For over a month. And never even notices. When reminded, she responds, “what rolling pin? Wait. You have my rolling pin?”
Incidentally, if you Google images of “woman holding rolling pin” you get a bunch of photos of angry women wielding rolling pins as weapons and methods of intimidation. Go figure.