There is a certain point in the long and dreary Midwestern winter when you are left with no choice but to give up.
Despite your best efforts, it will eventually drive you to your knees, where you will be forced to dig for the car keys you dropped into 19 inches of snowfall in subzero temperatures.
When that happens, it won't really matter that you are wearing new boots or that underneath the clothes that are underneath your clothes, your underwear is the color of the tropics.
But why should you have to suffer when there are cupcakes? There are almost always cupcakes around here. I am starting to think of them as food.
From the cupcake archives: Like Buttah
This weeks domesting revelation: My undercounter Maytag oven having conked out (yet again), it has come to my attention that my Cuisinart countertop oven holds six-unit cupcake pans, and that one box of brownie mix fills two of said pans, baking at about 20 minutes each. Short the oil, or else your cupcake papers will be a tad greasy. Or don't, making it easier to lubricate the lips as you pig out waiting for the snow to melt
Posted by: Lynne | February 25, 2014 at 09:51 AM
Meant domestic rather than domesting, but then again when one is nesting ...
Posted by: Lynne | February 25, 2014 at 09:52 AM
It's funny you should mention brownie mix, which we are calling "lunch." It's what comes of having no motivation and nothing but 16-year-old girls and cake mixes in the kitchen.
SK
Posted by: Suburban Kamikaze | February 25, 2014 at 11:17 AM
Ah yes, far away in the kingdom of the far north. Let them eat ---cupcakes?
Posted by: nthnglsts | February 25, 2014 at 06:41 PM
Cupcakes, brownies, rainbow cakes, chocolate chip and sprinkle cookies. We haven't eaten anything that isn't covered in colored sprinkles in weeks. We are probably less than one room away from being completely under the girl's authority. But which room?
SK
Posted by: Suburban Kamikaze | February 27, 2014 at 08:04 AM