Tonight I was standing in my kitchen sweating over the fact that a certain someone has a significant day coming up this weekend, and between the fact that my lungs are exploding and my brain is atrophying I neglected to come up with any treat for him to take to school to share with his friends. And nothing says lovin' like sending in two dozen sugar-laden treats for the teachers to give out an hour before the parents pick their little darlings up for the weekend. Don't ever say that I'm not a thoughtful person.
No cake mix, but two cans of vanilla frosting that is "homestyle". So I dragged out my Better Homes and Gardens cookbook and after consultation with Mer I decided to make yellow cake cupcakes and then will do the frosting and some sprinkles. At least one part of this will be homemade, despite what the frosting can says.
Later on as I was measuring up the dry goods, I heard my cell phone ring and it was Gretchen calling from the road. We talked about all the usual stuff and then the conversation went to the whole Mother of the Year thing we talk about in our blogs.
Well, Gretchen, consider the gauntlet thrown. There is no way that you can beat me in this competition this year, sweetcheeks.
Consider, if you will:
Who fed her kid rotten lunch meat?
Whose kid dropped the f-bomb at circle time during Letter F week?
Who scheduled her kid for surgery on the most hallowed days of children, Halloween?
Who told her kid that if he picked his nose anymore that the doctor would burn the inside of his nose?
And those are just the high points. And there were plenty of low points, too.
Good luck, Gretchen. And may the best woman win.
Now, where is that "homestyle" frosting?