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On cupcakes, craftiness, and me having neither right now

“Good morning Sagey!”

[grunt]

“Did you have a good nights sleep?”

“Cuk-kake.”

“Cupcake?”

“YEAH!”

“No cupcakes honey, it’s 7 AM. Do you want breakfast?”

“CUK-KAAAAAAAAAKE!”

I do not exaggerate when I say that lately the girls are entirely obsessed with cupcakes. Ever since Nate rocked that tray of them for Thalia’s very important half birthday, all they want to do is talk about cupcakes, dream about cupcakes, bargain for cupcakes, roll around naked in cupcakes.

This morning, in an effort to cut back on TV, we hit flick’r to search for pictures of cupcakes. And like some horny adolescent who discovered his dad’s “secret” bookmarks, the girls ooh and ahh and drool and clap and get just a little too excited over the dozens of photos of sugar and flour and mounds of neon frosting.

(At least there’s no high fructose corn syrup in the homemade stuff?)

Then today on Tastespotting, the ultimate home of food porn, I stumbled across the single cutest freaking cupcake I’ve ever seen – Groundhog’s Day Cupcakes from the most awesomely named The Food in My Beard.


And suddenly I feel like the crap mom who doesn’t have the crafty genes to turn an Almond Joy and some crushed Oreos into a thing of undisputed caloric beauty – just the laptop to click and gawk at someone else’s creativity.

The Valentine’s cards we try to make suck, the Scotch tape in my gift wrap is always filled with dog hair, and Nate won’t even let me near a pastry bag to decorate a cake. Heck, I can’t even get in two straight pigtails on Thalia’s head.

Don’t tell me “You can do it!” either. Allow me remind you what happened the last time I tried knitting.

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