Last week, I went to a cupcake decorating class, and my children were thrilled with the results:
I've always been a horrible cake decorator, so I was relieved to find that with a little coaching and some lessons in technique, I was actually able to turn out some presentable little cakes.
I know, they're almost too cute. I let each of my children eat two, and then had Andrew and Elijah deliver the rest to the two neighbor families in our building with children.
The first two cupcakes made it without incident (the boys each only held one), but then the trouble arose when I sent Elijah down on a second trip with a paper plate full of 4. Admittedly, a terrible idea, but I thought I'd give the guy a chance. He and Andrew knocked on the second door, and in the space of time it took the family not to answer the door, Elijah said "whoops". I looked out to see, and sure enough, there he was, picking them up off of the welcome mat. I was a little miffed, but relieved that at least the family hadn't answered, so now they wouldn't see the ruined cakes. I told the boys to just come back up, intending to throw the cupcakes away.
Half-way back to our door, the dad of the family opened his door. I explained, also saying that they'd been dropped, and at that moment Elijah turned around to face the guy and dropped them at his feet. The guy generously took them anyway, and I found out the next day that they'd all eaten them, in spite of the extra seasoning. I mean, they're the ones who clean the stairs, so they know how clean/dirty they are, but...oh goodness.
The nesting urge this time around has spun me into a series of sweaters for myself, and I'm powerless to resist.
Must get back to the knitting.
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