You see, I have these grandiose dreams of me creating these scrumptiously beautiful baked goods that make people swoon. Cakes, desserts, cookies that melt in your mouth... but it ain't happenin' folks. And trust me, I don't use the word "ain't" without good cause so you KNOW it has to be bad.
Three o'clock rolled around this morning and the hungry cries of my 9-week old awoke me and, unfortunately, kept me awake. So, after I put him back down I decided to make my son's cupcakes for his school birthday party. Simple enough, right? Cupcakes from a box of cake mix. Directions on the back. What could be easier?
Um, lots of things, apparently.
By four a.m., I pulled out a muffin-tin-full o' cupcakes that looked more like muffins cause the tops had run over the sides. "I can salvage these," I reassure myself. Minutes later, I'm trimming the edges causing irrepairable damage to said cupcakes. I did try to ice one and...no...no...no... it was NOT A PRETTY SIGHT, MY FRIENDS.
So, I have some leftover batter and, since I resigned myself to the fact that I must now purchase (gasp) store-bought cupcakes, I'd get creative and make mini-loaves that I could then ice into a cake for the birthday boy. I can't handle cupcakes but suddenly I'm going to attempt a cake?
Mistake. Big mistake.
Yes. I took an uneven lump o' mini-loaves poorly iced it and then "spruced it up" with TINKER TOYS to look like truck parts. It is a sad, sad day in the cake world my friends. Wait til' the Food Network gets a hold of this one... there will be a new reality series called "Worst Cake EVER."
You see, I have a baby. And a house to sell and a full time job and...well, frankly, my level of creativity these days has gone the way of those 10 I.Q. points I insist I lost the day I became the mother of a newborn. It's not that I don't care. It's just NOT THERE anymore.
So, in the spirit of the fabulously effective cook Pioneer Woman, I shall document the glorious journey that resulted in my child's birthday cake:Step 1: Wake up at 3:00am to do this:
Step 2: Take a box of this:
Step 3: Your sink will probably look like this:
(OK, so the pots were from boiling some hard-boiled eggs. Unrelated culinary footage)
Step 4: And you end up with this:
There you have it, my "I-trust-you-not-to-mock-me-in-my-Comments-section" friends.
Don't ask me why it needed a mouth. I was desperate. It was 4:00am. I can't explain my actions.
But you know what? He loved it.
Will the wonders of parenthood never cease.