You guys. If we are friends on spacebook, then you already know about the stupid time I tried to make buttercream frosting turn black. Let me tell you what the tiny bottle of black Wilton’s food coloring should have said. It should have said “HEY! Add a TINY amount or your frosting will taste insanely awful!!” Possibly they might want to add curse words or more exclamation points to make sure that people really understand.
A friend and her adorable baby had stopped by before I’d added said black death to the frosting and she claims to not like buttercream but once she tasted that frosting she was possibly swayed. It was whipped so nicely that she thought maybe Cool Whip was involved. I take that as a compliment.
After she and her adorable baby left I decided to get down to business and get those cupcakes frosted. I added the black. Added a little more. And frosted. Then I tasted them and was seriously grossed out. I made the kids come into the kitchen (also, why were they being so quiet? oh, they were just covering Piper in stickers). I made them taste the frosting too [insert SNL clip here] except that neither of them even cared about the bitterness of the black coloring. They were a little giggly from all of the sticker application, so perhaps that had something to do with it. But I strategically decided to leave them alone while I made dinner.
Made. Consumed. Played with children. Read Stories. Made up stories about someone named Plideon who flies X-Wing fighters. Sang Songs. Prayed. Walked back into kitchen.
For real. I knew I couldn’t send those cupcake to school for Gideon’s birthday. First, they were getting darker as they were exposed to air and I thought that probably meant they were getting grosser to taste too. I couldn’t really send my kid to school with gross frosting. He’d have to wear the shame of the gross cupcakes for two more weeks. That’s not fair to him or my need to make people love the food I make. It’s probably more about that than the kid, but see how easily I can use his needs to mask my own?! Ah, motherhood.
Speaking of moms, that is who I called to force me into making the new frosting. I already knew it was what needed to be done, but I didn’t really WANT to waste all that (gross) frosting. I was all “What should I do?” And she was all “just wipe it off with a spatula”. So that’s what I did.
And then I made some new frosting.
It is blue.
