B is for Baking a special cake for each family member. I may or may not also bake a nice chocolate sheet cake for myself, which I may or may not shovel into my face while hiding in the closet under the stairs, while my children may or may not run barefoot and messy-haired throughout the house screaming, Mommy! Mommy! Where are you?
I is for Insomnia, a condition caused by staring at my alarm clock at 4:00 in the morning as I worry about how many cakes I have to bake.
R is for Rainbow Chip Cake Mix. That's right, I admit it. I don't always bake from scratch. Because of the colorful sprinkles pictured on the front of the box, my children beg for a package of cakelike powder created in a laboratory somewhere. A pox on you, Betty Crocker. Or perhaps I mean to say, THANK YOU.
T is for Taurus, the sign of the bull. I deal with May babies, the most stubborn people living under the influence of the astrological horoscope. They want their cake and they want it now.
H is for Hang On, Kim . . . once I get through this month, no more birthdays until February. My own June birthday does not count, because even if anyone bothers to remember it, everyone's sick of cake by then.
D is for Downton Abbey, sitting unwatched in its DVD case upon my nightstand. I checked out season 2 from the library, but don't have time to watch it right now. I guess that's what overdue fines are for. And chocolate cake.
A is for Advil. Use it, but don't abuse it.
Y is for You Only Go Through Life Once . . . quit complaining and enjoy the cake-filled journey.
Dinner last night: flank-steak-and-stuffing spirals, green salad
Exactly two years ago:
Exactly three years ago:
Exactly four years ago: