The people have spoken (at least 17 people have), and the winner of the first weekly poll for baking day is fruit pizza. As I have never made a fruit pizza, this may get interesting. The Boss says it isn't that tough; you just make a giant sugar cookie for the crust and then mix yogurt, cream cheese and strawberry jam for the "sauce".
The thought does occur to me (contrary to popular opinion, I do think occasionally) that it may be more fun for the kids to make their own "mini-pizzas" by using regular sugar cookies instead of a big one. That way they can put what they want on it and I don't have to cut the bugger into slices to send home. I'm not sure you can even slice a sugar cookie. I guess you could but it would have to be much more moist than I am capable of making.
The Boss is a little sad because she was hoping for cupcakes. I think I may do a supplemental baking day today and make cupcakes just for her (Is it cannibalism for one hot cupcake to eat other cupcakes?). Her big inspection is over this morning, and after working basically non-stop from Sunday afternoon to today (she got three hours of sleep each night) The Boss deserves a treat of her own. Actually, she deserves alot of things she never gets, so I try to make sure that she at least gets showered with praise. She is the Queen, after all.
Tonight is her work party at FatCats bowling with a pizza buffet, so we will have something to entertain the kids AND I don't have to fix dinner! That's like the perfect night! That settles it, I have to make the Boss cupcakes, there are no excuses not to. I'll take the camera and get pictures of the kids bowling, that ought to be good for a few giggles.
Beak just brought the kids over and gave me about a half case of Spaghetti-Os. Ah, the Breakfast of Champions!
I, personally, have not been able to eat Spaghetti's-Os since that fateful day when I was 8 or 9. I don't really like to talk about it, as it is a painful chapter of my life but seeing that white and red label on those cans just brought the pain crashing back up to the surface (sniff).
It all started when Mom had somewhere to be and so she sent us to the neighbor's to be babysat. All was well until the neighbor's son Orson, who was a bit younger than I, decided that those damnable pasta hoops were just the right size for expectorating. He....he (sniff)filled is mouth with a big spoonful...(gasp!) and then he went all Animal House Belushi on me.
Great globs of carbohydrates encased in gooey, red, tomato blood went spewing out of his mouth and into my perfect, blond hair. (I did too have hair! Stop laughing, it's not funny!) And since the washcloth could only mop up some of the ooze, I spent the better part of my day smelling spaghetti-Os and feeling my crusty hair try to pull away from my sticky scalp (Geez! No wonder I'm bald!). I think this may have been the beginning of my theory that five year olds are the perfect instruments of destruction.
And I'd really like to thank Beak for bringing it all back in one horrible moment! I may never recover......
OK , I'm over it. Time to go make cupcakes!
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