Jonathan let me sleep while he got the boys off to school. About halfway through the morning routine I heard Jon exclaim, “All right, boys! WHO got into the frosting last night and LEFT A SPOON on it!!!!!”
My kids were falling all over themselves in denial that it was their doing. I was seriously tempted to let my 10-year-old take the blame.
Instead, Jon got a sheepish peep from the bedroom, “It was me honey. “
You don’t want to know the reaction. Suffice to say, he had plenty to say about a 32-year -old mother who sneaks frosting in the middle of the night and considers letting her children take the blame for it.
It didn’t stop me craving its cold, thick, vanilla YUMMINESS, though. I ate the last scoop this afternoon. “Ate” is a kind word. I scraped every last bit out and then ran my finger along the inside to ensure I got every delicious morsel. Picture those movies where you see users picking up the last cocaine flecks from their snorted lines and then rubbing it on their teeth in and you get the idea.
I want more frosting.