culinary miracles

Alternate titles for this post:

"Never again."

"Crumbs or castles?"

"Why does it look like we started drinking but have no buzz?"

"Just how crazy are we actually?"

"Do you think Frank's bakery will take pity on us in the morning if we show this to them?"

"Is 4.5 pounds of confectioner's sugar on a child's birthday cake a crime?"

I started early enough. Making cakes. Freezing them. All in hopes to avoid the dreaded crumb layer when frosting.

We got the kids to bed, laid out every conceivable pink candy we had found, I started whipping up butter cream frosting, Sandi slicing cake into shapes she had sketched like an architect to form a grand castle.

The party was the next afternoon. We delusionally thought we might have time to snuggle on the couch and watch Grey's Anatomy.

It was 8:06.

And everything started to crumble.




Some light swearing. Some doubt from Sandi countered with some bullheaded determination of my own.

We actually ran out of glue, I mean frosting (after 4 pounds!) and Sandi had to run to the store.

In order to cover up the mess, I started piping purple. Seemed like a good idea. Seemed like the ONLY idea.

Finally, a metamorphosis. From shack to castle.

And finally...all clean...

And up to bed...

Miracles do happen...

And the squeals and smiles were worth every hand-cramping minute.