This morning as I was stuffing my face with sugar muffins that I made last night, it dawned on me that there might be a correlation between my jeans from high school no longer fitting me and how many sugary cake-like desserts I make and eat. The next thought that ran through my head is life is short, who cares? I'm sure this is kind of like a gateway drug to a lifetime of obesity and/or diabetes, but what I bake always tastes so good. So I've promised myself to start limiting my sugar-induced hyperbolic fits over brownies and cupcakes. I am even considering eating low-fat dessert (hyperbole much?) only, but that probably won't happen until I gain another ten pounds. I am still at an average weight for my height, so I feel pretty okay with myself and my lavish cake-eating habits.
(baked cake rolled into tiny balls and then dipped in chocolate)
Mine and Marc's birthday cake
(chocolate cake, chocolate pudding, cool whip, and crushed oreos layered)
Meme's sugar muffins
(there were many more made, but Marc got to them all before I could get a picture)
Croissant cinnamon cake
(once again, I failed to get a picture of the entire dish thanks to one of my brothers-in-law, I'll let you guess which one did it)
I'm posting this one because there was cake involved. It was John's birthday cake and it was also disgusting. Never, ever make crock-pot cake. Anyone who tells you that it is good is lying to you and you should stop being friends with them immediately.
LET THEM EAT CAKE!
(these will probably be my last words as I am dying of diabetes)