Because I know what it takes to keep my man happy

Tonight was the night. The night for cupcakes. And not just any ol’ cupcakes. Sprinkles cupcakes. Yummy, delicious, homemade vanilla Sprinkles cupcakes. Thanks to my in-laws’ marvelous birthday present, we enjoyed this delicious treat from Williams-Sonoma and I am hooked. We are definitely going to have to try the rest of the Sprinkles mixes now (Simon, I know you want some red velvet).

There was some question, however, whether or not the cupcakes would be baked. This is because there was an incident a few weeks ago – an incident in which a certain polenta lasagna overflowed into the oven, creating a lovely, baked-on mess. And I forget about it until I turn the oven on, always too late to bother cleaning it. Tonight I turned the oven on, and put dinner in (leftovers from my birthday party). Well, wouldn’t you know, butter starts to sputter, and a slight amount of smoke (negligible, really) starts coming out of the oven. In time for when Simon walks in the door from work. Of course. This is Murphy’s law.
But my efforts were not foiled. Cupcakes prevailed, with nary the scent or flavor of smoke. Oh, and making it even better was pairing the delicious chocolate-buttercream-frosted vanilla cupcakes with fresh cold milk in a boot glass. That was my boot glass when I was little. Mom sent it home with me today. I know Jude will love drinking milk out of it too someday.  It just brings a smile to my face.
Here, Simon is applying the manufacturer-supplied fondant dots that are so not tasty. But they’re cute!

Disclaimer: I cannot admit to having made the frosting. Duncan Hines did.

And finally, the aftermath. We easily polished off two each tonight. I have no doubt that there will be further damage done in the morning. 
In other news, poor Jude has a nasty cough. But he seems to be no worse for the wear, as he is marvelously chipper, despite copious amounts of snot. Today, he was hop-hop-hopping like crazy to the music from Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang, and it was too cute. As I type this, he is laying on Simon’s shoulder, staring into space, totally in a milk coma. Poor baby. I hope he sleeps good (and I hope I do too!)