…they’ll eat plastic-studded frosting for you.
Remember that scene in the first Bridget Jones film – y’know the one where she is cooking her own birthday dinner and then Colin Firth comes over and helps… and then her soup turns blue because she forgot to take the yarn off the lemon grass or whatever she was cooking with… and then her friends eat her food anyway? Until tonight, I don’t know if I ever realized how much a film can resemble real life.
I prepared (and in some cases, helped to prepare) my birthday dinner for my friends. Wait – my birthday dinner.. isn’t it supposed to be for me? And shouldn’t they cook? And clean? Blah, blah, blah – don’t start with the, “They ate plastic for you!” and, “They forwent sleep for you!” crap. Nah, I am very appreciative. I mean, I don’t know if I would eat plastic for them…
I have this trusty royal blue plastic bowl that I love to use. Well, tonight as I was mixing my mystery frosting I noticed those pesky oh-too-familiar-but-where-are-they-from blue specks “confetti-ing” my luscious spreadable goodness. My trusty large blue mixing bowl is shedding. And it makes me so sad.
In my defense, I did tell them that I thought it was plastic in the frosting, and then they made a conscious, sober decision to still intake.
But, mmm, that frosting was lip-lickin’ good. Could barely taste the plastic, too! Naw, I’m just kidding… the plastic is what made it so lip-lickin’ good! No, no, seriously, I’d like to take the credit for that. (And, well, the recipe, too, I guess.) I like to think it was that little extra something special that only I can impart my baked goods with – no, not the plastic – the love! That is what I impart… and the probable plastic and dye poisoning.
And without further ado…grapefruit cake! Burgers on the grill comprised dinner. A very good birthday meal indeed.