Happy Sunday

It's been a long day, you know. I've been fully functioning since 7:30 this morning and I just don't honestly know how any sane person does that day after day. I absolutely love sleep and waking up well rested, you know, somewhere around noon.

Except today was Sunday so we piled into the car and raced ourselves to church. I love church. I do. Really. But today I was excited for going out to eat after church. We never go out to eat after church anymore. Partially because it's so darn spendy, and well really, how do you come up with that kind of cash every week to treat 7 people, possibly more, to brunch on Sundays after church?

We're not millionaires, unfortunately. And it's just too bad that money doesn't grow on trees because really, let's face it, that would solve a lot of problems.

Anyway, after our horrid waitress conned us out of more money than we wanted to spend by conveniently forgetting to tell us that some things cost more money in addition to the money you're paying for the meal, like side dishes and extra large drinks that totaled fifteen more dollars than necessary, I left the restaurant in a despicable mood, in desperate need of something fluffy and happy to come my way, and Prince Charming kept reminding me "Happy Sunday" at least three times before I pulled in our drive way. 

Well, we puttered around the house doing extravagant things like laundry and yard work. Princey and I left for a time to see one of his friends who lives down the road and across the street from me. We ended up in serious want of chocolate cake, the lot of us did. And Jack being the awesome chef that he is offered to bake us a veritable dessert delight.

He pulled a package out of the Betty Crocker box and mixed in the ingredients, but we all thought it looked downright soupy and perhaps he had added too much oil? I mean really, the batter just dripped off the fork and it wasn't at all that creamy thick brown chocolate goodness that even the least skilled cake bakers know it is supposed to look like.

Chalking it up to a measuring mishap, Jack poured out the thin consistency and retried with another packet of powdery wonderment, this time measuring extra careful so that we wouldn't end up with the former result. But the second packet turned out the same as the first, and we wondered if perhaps this was a different kind of cake mix. Maybe it was just a really runny liquid batter instead of a creamy luscious batter?

No matter. We placed it in the oven believing with our heart of hearts that it would turn out tasty and delicious the way that all good cakes are supposed to be. While the cake batter was placed in the oven to change forms and become moist and spongy, it was time to start on the frosting portion.

Jack pulled out one of the remaining packets. "Cake Mix" was written on the side. He pulled out the other knowing for sure this one would be the frosting packet, but no, it too read "Cake Mix." Oh the horror! He pulled the empty packet out of the trash can, the one he had used to make the 'cake batter' that was now baking in the oven, and it read "Frosting." Can you imagine?

We had added oil, water and eggs to the frosting mix! Wonder of all wonders that it wasn't thick and creamy! We all felt very bright and perhaps also worthy of a Nobel Peace Prize for our amazing display of outrageous intelligence. Jack pulled the frosting "batter" out of the oven before it has started to solidify and then mixed together the right batter.

Unfortunately, we had wasted both packets of frosting mix and were forced to make it from scratch. But the cake was melt in your mouth chocolaty and savory delicious.

I came home to DP sleeping on the couch and TheMechanic watching the end of one of the Star Wars movies. It's now 1:30 am and I need to go rest my brain parts and eye sockets so tomorrow I wake up ready to tackle the day that is feasting on BBQ at Grandma and Grandpa's for Memorial Day.