Actually, if you know me at all, you'd be well aware of my humility. It's kind of strange, though. I like to make people happy (stop rolling your eyes, Craig!); I want to know when I've done something that others like, but I don't feed off of praise. I don't need words of affirmation or a pat on the back; praise makes me feel more awkward than usual. I do, however, expect those around me to inconspicuously make themselves aware of my awesomeness, quietly comment to themselves about level of awesomeness I've obtained and, most importantly, never criticize my lack of awesomeness, even when it's abundantly clear, to me and to others.
I suppose it's safe to say that I live in a strange little bubble. A bubble where I am too hard on myself and hope that people will like me, but fully expect them to think I'm the obnoxious twerpy whiner I've portrayed myself to be on this blog. It's alright if they think bad things about me, but it's never kosher to verbalize those thoughts. Like I said, I reside in the ignorance is bliss bubble. Come on in, denile is a warm and welcome environment.
I have finer moments. And some really not fine moments.
Today was a day in which I had one of those finer moments. A moment in which I made the birthday dreams of a soon to be 11 year old come true.
Or something like that.
Or not at all.
It's not like I bought her a motorized scooter or an iPhone.
I merely helped her bake cupcakes to share with her class tomorrow.
Here's the thing: Sarah, the birthday-girl-to-be, and one of Caroline's best neighborhood buddies, wanted homemade cupcakes to bring to school tomorrow. The problem is that Sarah's mom doesn't like to bake. She just plain doesn't. That's ok. I have no beef with that. We can't all be like me, after all.
So, Sarah approached me on Monday with the idea of baking cupcakes at our house. Her mom would provide the ingredients and I would provide the want, desire, skill and Kitchen Aid mixer.
Knowing full well that she has soccer practice on Thursday evenings, I replied with a very non committal "sure" even though I figured it wouldn't happen due to her schedule.
And then the rain came. Cold, wet, field flooding, soccer unfriendly rain.
This afternoon I dropped Caroline off at her friend's house and as I walked in the door, Sarah's mom called and told me I was about to be accosted by an eager, baking loving 10 year old with a grand plan. I assured Cindy that I honestly didn't mind at all. I mean, really....I love to bake.
She apologized, told me the sad tale of her own personal baking disasters and I told her not to worry. Because this girl loves to bake. I haven't any marketable skills, I probably couldn't financially support Caroline on my own and I'm a college dropout, but dagnabbit, I can make cupcakes from a boxed cake mix.
So bake we did.
Cake mixes are fool proof, but I've learned from the Cake Mix Doctor that homemade frosting is a must. I tend to agree.
So, we baked the cupcakes and I sent Sarah home to do her homework, with plans to whip up the frosting after dinner; this also provided ample time for the butter to soften. Butter cream isn't butter cream without.....butter. Besides, Caroline would be very hurt and undoubtedly resentful if she was not included in the frosting portion of the cupcake baking process.
After dinner we
The pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
I'd like to think that this was a baking success.
The birthday girl is pleased and that's all that matters.
Well, that, but more importantly, now I'm like the most awesome neighbor EVER.