Sometimes That Girl Frosts Me

I had a lot of work to do yesterday. Picking up the living room, laundry, finding a babysitter for next weekend, and picking up the living room again after Abbie pulled everything off the shelves while I was loading the washing machine and talking on the telephone were all high priority items. When I set the twins down for their nap, I tackled my highest priority: Baking cupcakes.

We still had frosting leftover from Abbie’s birthday party. Ellie bought frosting for her cake in a container size normally used for holding obscene amounts of gas station soda pop. Between her practice sessions and the genuine birthday cake, she managed to use two-thirds of the frosting bucket, but that still left enough frosting to keep me buzzed until Independence Day.

I made a batch of cupcakes last week, but despite a few cupcakes that doubled their weight after frosting, I still had enough to coat another batch. After procuring the correct variety of cake mix (cherry chip) on Saturday, I mixed them up and popped them in the oven, pulling them out just as the boys woke up screaming. I left them on top of the oven to cool, and set about feeding the boys.

After the boys had sucked down a couple ounces each, I noticed that something was missing: Abbie. Normally she’s in the room when I feed the boys plopping books on my lap, or at least in her room noisily bouncing between several toys. I didn’t see her this time, nor could I hear her. This could only mean one thing: Abbie is quietly entertaining herself. Quiet entertainment may sound like a good thing, but previous experience has taught me that the only things that keep Abbie happy without making noise are forbidden activities like playing in the bathtub or discovering which objects will fit in the VCR.

I set the boys down much to their dismay, and went to find Abbie. Fortunately our small house means I need only turn the corner to find her. Around that corner, I saw this:





You can’t really tell, but in that first picture, she has a cupcake in each hand. By the third picture, she’d dropped the second cupcake, possibly to appease the dog. Feeding the dog has been a favorite activity of hers since she discovered the dog would hang out with her if she just shared her Goldfish.

I walked back to the kitchen and realized I’d left her booster seat too close to the cooling cupcakes. She climbed into her chair, found the delicious cakes, decided she felt like having two, and scampered around the corner just in case daddy wanted to do something to stop her. Since she’d already gooified those two cupcakes, I let her (and the dog) keep them. That leaves more frosting for the remaining cupcakes anyway.