Every month at my daughter’s school the kids whose birthday is during that month get an invitation to sit at a special table during lunch, where they all receive birthday cupcakes. I am on the cupcake committee and I volunteered to bring 18 cupcakes to school last week Friday.
The last time I volunteered was in February. I put my husband in charge of the cupcakes because he is a foodie and would bake the most fantastic cupcakes for the kids. He looked long and hard for the perfect cupcake recipe and finally settled on a yellow cake with lemon frosting. They were very yummy. However, I didn’t trust that my 8 year old would get them to school in one piece so I drove them to my brother’s house during a snowstorm so that my sister-in-law, who is a teacher at the school, could deliver them to the office the next day. There were cars in the ditch all over the place and I even saw one that was tangled into a tree — that’s how bad the roads were — but I was going to get those cupcakes to where they needed to be in one piece.
It wasn’t until afterwards that my sister-in-law informed me that most of the parents just bought cupcakes at the store rather than bring homemade ones.
So back to last week. My husband’s father ended up in the hospital and it turned into a crazy week. I remembered about the cupcakes on Wednesday night while were on our way to visist my father-in-law, so instead of baking 18 cupcakes this month I bought them. My plan was to take them to work on Thursday, give them to my brother, who would then give them to his wife and she would take them to school on Friday morning. I figured that would be a better plan than my daughter taking them to school and potentially smashing them on the bus.
Immediately upon getting into the car the bag of cupcakes tipped over. Whoops. The damage was minor and I was able to recover all of the cupcakes.
On Thursday morning I went to put them in my brother’s car but his car smelled like dog and I didn’t want the cupcakes to smell like dog, so I put them in his office instead. We then had to make sure that none of our coworkers helped themselves to one.
He finally took them home and within an hour he was text messaging me with this picture:
“You sure Zoe couldn’t do better?
Dinah knocked them off the counter”
As it turns out, his cat knocked all 18 of the cupcakes off the kitchen counter.
My husband wants to know why they don’t do birthday cookies. It would be soooooooooo much easier.