It was bound to happen. There was bound to be one post that stood out above all the others to expose me as the crazy person that I am. MB was bound to read it and then realize that he had better run for his life.
Let's all hope and pray that MB is too busy to read today's post. I mean, he kinda already knows I'm insane when it comes to food. Remember the Slim a Bear incident?
Yeah. I revisited that today just so you would have a frame of reference for my dessert induced insanity.
While I was posting my eats over at the BLitz, I started to share a little about what I am now calling The Cake Incident. Then, I realized that an incident of this magnitude truly deserves it's very own post.
So, here we are.
Let's just begin at the beginning, shall we?
It was Thursday night and I was home alone. Unsupervised. MB was away at work and not due home until the next morning.
I had just enjoyed some delicious risotto with sauteed cabbage and was catching up on some tv I had recorded earlier in the week. Of course, I was snuggled up in MB's recliner.
MB: If you are going to focus your anger/contempt on any part of this story, you should focus it on that. In fact, you can just stop reading right now and that would be okay. Looooove you.
It was about halfway through SVU that I realized I was craving something sweet. Specifically, cake.
I tried to distract myself, but it was to no avail. Once the taste for cake hits, there is no satisfying it...unless it's with cake.
I wandered upstairs to my little baking cabinet and discovered that I had a box of lemon cake mix in there. Oh joy!
I also had icing. Double joy!
After stopping to think about the insanity of baking an entire cake just for myself, I realized it was perfectly reasonable.
As long as I did one or all of the following:
- Eat the entire cake, leaving absolutely no evidence behind. This would leave me feeling super fat and bloated and full of guilt, but at least there would be no evidence. Until weigh in day.
- Never tell MB or anyone about this. This means I would have to lie to my blogger peeps and I was not going to do that. Next option.
- Bake the entire cake, but eat only an appropriate portion so that when MB
returned home, he would find a cake with only 1 small slice missing. The small slice that any normal, non-cake-addicted person would eat. That would mean there would be a cake left in my house and that would just be too much temptation.
- Bake the entire cake, eat what I wanted (but not the whole thing because that
would be crazy) and throw away the rest.
- Bake cupcakes, eat what I wanted and then take the rest into work, making
sure I left behind enough so my coworkers wouldn't be all judgey and be wondering how the hell I could've eaten 17 out of 24 cupcakes by myself.
These were my options. Obviously, I have issues.
AnywhyareyoustillreadingthisMB, I came up with a plan.
I pulled out my little square pan and decided to bake the cake in there. I mixed up the batter and poured enough in to just fill up the little square pan. It was perfect. The cake would only be a thin cake that was 9 inches square. I could work with that.
Of course, while the cake was baking, I scoured and put away all the dishes and then licked the bowl. It's the most effective way to clean a mixing bowl. Didn't you know?
Anyjustification, while the cake was baking, I delved further into my plan. I decided that I would cut the 'crust' off the little square cake so that I would be left with a cake that was about the size of a brick. Maybe even a little smaller.
I could work with that.
When I had cut the 'crust' off the finished little square cake, I put the icing on and sat down to enjoy my little brick cake of secrecy and betrayal and shame. This was after I had again scoured and put away all the cake baking tools and thrown the 'crust' in the trash.
While the pup was drooling over me and my cake of shame, I snuggled back into MB's recliner and took my first bite.
Good. Not great.
Five bites later...I was done.
My cake of shame just didn't satisfy me and I couldn't eat another bite.
All that work for seven bites of 'meh' cake.
So, I threw the remaining cake of shame away and took the trash outside. Then, I debated with myself about whether I would tell anyone about The Cake Incident.
It's been like a dirty little secret burning in my brain for the past couple days actually. I don't like living a lie. So, here I am. Spilling it about The Cake Incident.
Please tell me that you have a similar form of food related insanity. I promise I won't judge you. Obviously, I have no room to do so anyway.
So, spill it. What's your cake of shame? Do you even have one?