Despite my fervent protestation, my birthday is quickly approaching. Last week as I was devouring the last of Caroline’s Halloween Twizzlers, I told her that Twizzlers were all I wanted for my birthday. Well, Twizzlers and a tube pan. NOT a tube TOP. A tube PAN.
A tube top, would in fact, be a horrible gift.
However, considering the stack of recipes in my “to make” pile that require said pan, a tube pan (it’s like an angel food cake pan) would be an excellent gift. The Twizzlers really go without saying.
To say that I have a sweet tooth would be the biggest understatement of the century.
But you know what, I’m kind of surprised with my reaction to Caroline’s Halloween candy bag this year. Normally I pounce quickly, early and often and shovel all the chocolate into my mouth as if there is no tomorrow. This year I’m finding that I’ve easily maintained more self control than normal. I’m not sure why. In the spirit of full disclosure, I did eat all the Twizzlers and most of the Butterfingers BUT not as quickly or in my usual morifyingly unlady-like fashion. The other night I went to eat a Reese’s peanut butter cup, took one bite and realized I didn’t want it. And then I threw it away! I never do that. Usually I just eat it anyway. You know, because wasting chocolate is a sin akin to murder and coveting your neighbor’s ass. Or however that commandment goes.
While we’re on the subject (of candy, that is…NOT my neighbor or his ass) have you noticed how small the fun sized Snickers and Milky Way candy bars have gotten? It’s probably a good thing, since no one needs that much caramel, nougat and chocolate (mmm nougat) but the fact that the companies are charging the same amount OR more for a smaller product is kind of annoying.
Craig and Caroline did some shopping for my birthday. I’m 100% positive I didn’t get any Twizzlers because yesterday upon their return I asked Caroline if she bought me Twizzlers and she said no. So there you go.
I’m still holding out for a tube pan.
It’s actually kind of strange to get presents. Craig and I haven’t ever been good at giving gifts to each other. It’s far easier to buy what you want and call it a gift. However, I’m pretty easy to buy for. You could give me nice dish towels and I’d be happy. Or an apron with a beaver on it that says “best dam cook.”
Craig is a little harder to buy for and I’ve pretty much given up trying to get him anything. I’ve waved the white flag of surrender and it works out fine that way; he buys something that he really wants and every one is happy. Everyone wins.
I’m a peacemaker; I like when everyone wins.
If I weren’t the oldest child, I’d be a great middle child.
A bossy middle child.
Or maybe I’m just wishy-washy.
As much as I hate to admit it, I think that’s the actual case.
I’m wishy-washy and terrified of stepping on toes.
Except with Craig and Caroline, of course. Home is where my bossiness grows.
Our home environment is conducive to the cultivation of my bossiness because I’m the overseer of all things domestic.
When it comes to laundry, groceries, the tidiness of our house and the issuing of snacks: I am the law.
I happen to like raisin bran cereal as much as the next
senior citizenperson, but I haven’t a clue what a spicy hermit cookie is. I do, however, know and love the bundt cake. Had I known of this occasion earlier, I would have baked a bundt cake in celebration. Instead, I baked another batch of white chocolate gingerbread blondies and pumpkin pie snickerdoodle bars for a bake sale at Craig’s work tomorrow.
Any blog that can incorporate cake and “Baby Got Back” in one post is truly meant for me.