"Tara, get your ass off of the counter, right now." Carol smacked her leg with the wooden spoon she was holding and raised it again, threateningly.
Tara laughed and jumped down, "Alright, alright. You're just like my sister sometimes, though she would never have made pot brownies. And I wouldn't have eaten them. We were drug tested at the police academy once, and they had lists of all the horrible things that would happen if we got caught using."
"I doubt I would have been making them before now." Carol gestured with the spoon again. "I probably shouldn't mention this to Rick or Michonne. Technically it isn't illegal anymore, but who knows what kind of reaction they might have."
"I doubt they'd care too much. Not after all of the other things that have gone on in the last couple years. It isn't like you're feeding them to unsuspecting innocents." Tara shrugged and then reached out to get a tiny bit of icing on her fingertip. "Alternative medicines are totally legitimate."
She ignored Carol's rolled eyes and licked her finger, "Glenn told me that we have a new directive about finding farm animals and others that can be domesticated. I wonder, if we could find some dairy cows would that mean we could have things like butter again?"
"You learn how to churn it and I'm sure we could. I am not playing historical farm-wife." Carol smirked, "I doubt there would be much of a sign-up list for that job."
"It might be worth it if I could have buttercream frosting again." She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring a memory. "I'd totally bribe you to make more of these amazing brownies too, if you'd tell me what you'd accept in return for them."
Carol laughed, "You let me think about that, and we might come to an arrangement."