Friday, February 20, 2009

Who Are You Kidding?!?

My brother told me about this website he has been using to keep track of his calorie/carb/fat intake. Since we are making a conscious effort to eat healthier I thought it was worth a shot. I went to the site, just messing around with it to see exactly how it worked, and I became curious as to just how badly I had eaten that day.

I found spaghetti with meat sauce just fine, but when I decided to be completely honest about what I had eaten, I typed Krispy Kreme into the search field. Nothing. Chocolate donut. Nothing. Donut. Nothing.

Are you kidding me? Of the thousands of people who use this website there is not anyone out there eating donuts? Come on! Ok, maybe there is some politically correct way of saying donut. Fried dough. Nothing. Pure cholesterol. Nothing.

I have come to the conclusion that those who use this website may need a companion site that is titled, "Truthday" or something like that.


Sunday, February 15, 2009

In The Name of Cake

Today Cody, Carson, Brianna and I made a cake that is only comparable to what the food must taste like in Heaven. It is called Gooey Butter Cake. Try it. Today.

Anyway, this cake has to cool for awhile so that it doesn't drip down your arm. I don't care personally if it drips down my arm. I'm not ashamed to be caught licking my arm when it is Gooey Butter Cake I'm trying to retrieve, but I'd rather not have to give all the kids a bath afterward.

EVERYONE is very impatient for it to be ready. They keep standing over it, breathing the incredible flavor in only for me to shoo them away for fear of a lovely drool topping. Carson wants to know when, wwwhhheeeeennnnn will it be done. What time can we eat it? How much llloooonnnngggeeerrrrrr?

I told her that I am incapable of computing the speed at which heat leaves a solid object, but that she was welcome to google it if she wished. Instead she held up one little finger while a sly grin matriculated on her face and she said, "Tell me when it will be done or.....bellybutton squish!!!"

That means I must quickly shield my bellybutton before it is brutally assaulted by her tiny needle of a finger. It's not the worst thing she's ever done in the name of cake, but I will spare you those details.

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