When we are invited to my husband’s sister’s house, I usually offer to bring a salad and dessert. When I think of it, that pretty much sums me up, and I’m smiling because I’ve never thought about it quite like that before. I love salad and vegetables, and I enjoy making dessert. Often those are the two items people may not have time to make when they’re putting a big dinner together, so I also like to think that my contributions lighten the load a bit. If you really know me, you’re thinking she just needs guinea pigs for her experimental cooking and you’d be exactly right.
But since this past weekend we were celebrating Easter and there would be two very cute little kids there, I decided to make cupcakes. Fluffy, frilly, sprinkly cupcakes.
Pink cupcakes. Hopefully my nephew would see past the color and focus on the flavor?
Right about the time I was finished decorating and positioning the cupcakes for photos, it occurred to me that I’d have a problem getting them to our destination in pristine form. I’d blame this on bad planning, but it’s more a case of cerebral flatulence. Usually, I’m fine carrying whatever it is I’ve made while my husband drives, making sure that while we’re on our way, going down steep hills or around corners doesn’t cause everything to slide around. But my husband was at work last Saturday, and we’d agreed that I’d pick him up on our way. Just a bit of a problem.
I drove carrying a plate of these lovelies held like a waitress carries a tray just waiting for someone to see me and think oh jeez, now I’ve seen everything or ask if they might sample one as they pass by in the cross walk. I was semi-successful getting them to their destination with only a couple of mishaps barely noticeable by my darling little niece who greeted me at the door all dressed in pink.