She didn't even try to hide the eye roll as he explained the alternative. Yes, the perversion of Amish culture and the word "plow" was much better than a theory about how pot made people hungry. "Yeah, I guess I did," she said, wrinkling her nose at the nickname. "How the hell did I become Snicker Doodle?" Coming from a southern family that seemed determined, in some ways, to remain in the 1950's, she had spent a lot of time in the kitchen with her harpy of an aunt, participating in baking slave labor. Snickerdoodle cookies were good, she supposed, though they weren't exactly her favorite. Really, she hadn't given them any thought until she had baked Russell a batch a month or two ago.