It is I: Maddie.
I am writing you today with a coNUNdrum all my own.
You see, readers, Aaron and I just bought a new (used) vehicle for a very reasonable price; it just needed a few things here and there to pass inspection. Since Aaron works at a car dealership, he is friends with some wonderful, honest, hard-working mechanics, and they offered to get our car off and rolling for nearly nothing.
NATURALLY, I felt the need to express our gratitude in the form of edible thanks.
Last night, around nine o'clock, I decided to make cupcakes for the guys. Mocha cupcakes. From scratch, icing included. Of course there were a couple things we had to pick up at the store before I could even start, so when we got back to the apartment it was already about 9:30.
Also, the power was out.
Yes.
We came home to a pitch black abyss and had to hunt for matches and candles with only the glow of our cell phones to guide us. Soon enough the candles were lit, and we sat on the sofa (actually, we just crammed on the loveseat; it's kind of our only living room seating option...surprisingly the 'love'seat doesn't encourage as much 'love' as the name would suggest. It's more like: "Seriously, if you elbow me in the ribs ONE more time!"...) listening to a podcast. I sighed to myself, disappointed about not being able to make cupcakes.
Then it hit me:
I have a gas stove/oven.
I can TOTALLY still make cupcakes!
And I did.
I made cupcakes by candlelight.
Charming, no?
It took a little longer than normal, but I got those puppies out. Aaron helped me and it was a cute little night. We didn't set the apartment on fire and the final product was indeed delicious!
See? The mood was so sweet that I can even be seen here (barely) holding a candle in one hand, a cupcake in the other while blowing a kiss. How adorable am I?
Seriously. How adorable?
Scale of 1 to 10.
I don't accept anything lower than 9.
15 is a legitimate response as well.
Now, the discerning reader is probably saying to his/herself: This all sounds so wonderful, I just don't even understand how this magical night could end in something that can be classified as a coNUNdrum! That Maddie is so talented. I love her. I just really love her. I'll say it again: 'I love Maddie.' So much so that I cannot bear the thought of making her share a t-shirt with her mother on www.insidetimmysmind.com . But that's beside the point. Not really, but kinda.
While all this is true and virtuous to think about, the coNUNdrum of last night did not surface until this morning as I stumbled out of bed for my coffee fix.
And that is when I surveyed the actual damage that my blind culinary romp had actually induced:
Counter View #1, #2, #3, and the Tabletop
So I guess, what I'm trying to ask you all this day is:
WHAT was I THINKING?!
Help? Can I get some help cleaning this kitchen? Anybody?
XOXO
-Maddie
You are the kindred spirit of my oldest daughter...and no, you cannot get help cleaning the kitchen. Your charitable heart is commendable, and yes, we LOVE you dearly....
ReplyDelete...but the kitchen is all yours. :)
(May I suggest cleaning AS you go along??)
Yup! The kitchen all yours!! The evening sounds worth the cleaning! LOL
ReplyDeleteYou drink the RIGHT kind of coffee. A couple of cups of that and it's almost guaranteed that you'll be a whirling dervish!
ReplyDeleteAlso? 15.
Oh Maddie, you don't need help, you need a match! :) "just kidding"... I've heard that Moms love to help their daughters clean their kitchens.
ReplyDelete11.5 I wanted to write a higher number, but am waiting to see if you get the kitchen cleaned. :)
I totally thought the pucker picture was Mama Mik. You look a lot like her (in the semi darkness anyway.) I notice though, your ever-so-humble nature must have either skipped a generation or is in your Papa's genes. Begging for ratings? Seriously? lol. Ok...I'll give you a 9 in the adorable dept but if you send me a batch of mocha cupcakes I'll reconsider.
ReplyDeleteWhat was the coNUNdrum again? "How can I increase my self-esteem?"
Ok..as far as the kitchen goes I have a great illustration for you. yesterday my 3 1/2 yr old granddaughter laid quietly with me on my bed while listening to an Adventures in Odyssey "radio" program on tape. I was in some pain and needed a grandma time out. Laying on my side to avoid letting my precious baby-girl see my pain I was totally unaware of her quiet activity. Apparently she found a tiny hole in my plush purple throw pillow and managed to pull 80% of the stuffing out one tiny pluck at a time and toss it over her side of the bed. It looked like I had a rats nest on the floor. Today, grandpa made the hole a bit bigger and made her stuff every spec of stuffing back inside the pillow. He then showed her how to stitch the hole up. (she insisted the pillow and it's unstuffed stuffing was "gabidge".the easy way out.) the boys got to play while she had to sit and stuff. when she was all done she boasted to me "G'ama...I fix it, see? It's ok now.
What does a 3 yr old lesson have to do with your conundrum, Maddie dawlin'? You made the mess...you fix it. And no, it's not "gabidge".
Sarcastically yours,
☆ Mari :o)
Mari, you hit the nail squarely on the head with the comment about her (superficial) lack of humbleness (a double negative equals a positive, right) coming from her father. The first thing he taught the kids to say was: Dad is cool.
ReplyDeleteYou made me smile...I like being right. lol. (and I'm saying that in the most humble way possible)
ReplyDeleteMari--
ReplyDeleteInteresting.
And here is an illustration for yoooou:
Don't hate the player.
Hate the game.
Five words:
ReplyDeleteMmmm...cupcakes.
Team Maddie.
12.
Remember those nice men you made the cupcakes for? I'd ask them to come clean up the mess. Isn't the standard "I cooked, you clean"?
ReplyDeletePS: 16
:)
Madi~Loved your 'Conundrum' and love you! So glad I live too far away to help clean up!
ReplyDeleteI'm a little late finding my way to your blog, and surely too late to clean up the kitchen -unless you're a worse procrastinator than I am. Next time you might want to opt for snuggling on the love seat. :)
ReplyDelete