Every year Hubby makes about 100 little 3 inch Chocolate Chip Bundt cakes to give to his employees as gifts. It is a tradition now, he’s been doing it for 10+ years (or something like that.) It typically takes him a couple of days to get all his baking done – but he always gets it done.
I DO NOT HELP until the very end when he ALWAYS ends up asking me to help him do the wrapping and tying. That’s a story for another day….
So this year, he started last Sunday night, got 1/4 of the cakes baked, wrapped in their 1st layer of plastic wrap and he placed them in a big container on the kitchen sink.
Baked another batch on Monday night before he headed out to referee 2 soccer games…wrapped in plastic wrap, and he put this batch on the dining room buffet.
Tuesday morning after the kids and Hubby leave for work and school, I’m sitting in the dining room and I notice 1 small piece of plastic wrap on the floor. Didn’t think anything of it. Bent down and picked it up. It was then that I noticed that there were 9, NINE, little Bundt cakes sitting on the buffet.
So I called Hubby to ask where are the cakes were….here’s a VERBATIM (haha) account of our conversation
ME: Hubby, where did you put all the cakes you made last night?
HUBBY: The dining room my beautiful, gorgeous wife, why ever do you ask?
ME: Oh no reason my darling. I’ll have your slippers and dinner waiting for you, my love, when you get home from a long, stressful day at work.
HUBBY: Did the dogs eat one of the cakes?
ME: Nope. By the way, how many did you make last night?
HUBBY: 23, I think. Did the dogs eat one of the cakes (a tad more forceful with me this time)
ME: NOPE (thinking to myself, heck no they didn’t eat ONE, they ate 14!!!! FOURTEEN freaking CHOCOLATE CHIP cakes with PLASTIC WRAP!!!!!!)
ME: Ok, gotta go, I love you oh sexy Hubby.
HUBBY: Goodbye my love. I’ll think of you and your long beautiful legs all day until I walk thru the door and see you again.
And we got off the phone and I had to reschedule my day to NOW have to re-bake the damn cakes!!!!!
Stupid stupid stupid DOGS.
I love my dogs. I really do. I ought to, I brought both of them home. (Technically, I convinced Hubby to “let” me have them. Stop laughing. I swear if he had said NO, I wouldn’t have gotten them. Yet. I just would have worked harder to convince him to say yes)
I told the kids that if they got sick and flipped over on their backs (the dogs, not the kids) I was NOT taking them to the ding dang vet. They could choke on the cake and plastic wrap for all I cared. I was so mad!!!!
I didn’t stay mad long and they didn’t die or anything. And Hubby didn’t kill them so all is well.
Except for the backyard. The big kids are NOT going to like having pooper scooper duty this week at all.