I am an excellent cook. Many people can verify this. I love to make dips, and appetizers especially.
But baking? That's where shit just got real. Real Bad.
I am fully aware I am a terrible baker. My idea of baking is either asking my Mom, or friend to do it for me, or buying it from the bakery at the store. I can even get through the cookies that you only have to break apart, and stick in the oven, pretty easily.
Regardless of this known fact about myself, I often get this wild idea that I should bake something and THIS time, my baking attempt will turn out so good, Martha Stewart will be at my door to congratulate me.
For Hal's 2nd birthday, I decided I would make her a Minnie Mouse cake. I bought the pan from Wal-Mart, some cake mix, frosting and headed home to make this amazing masterpiece.
Well, for someone who is terrible at math, mixing exact ingredients even with the correct mixing utensils, is torture. I had to call Matt three times to ask him how much 1/4 + 1/4 was, or something similar. I think he was starting to really worry on the third call, so I resorted to my friend Google for the answers.
I finally got the cake mixed up, poured it in the pan, and baked it. Since we live two blocks away from the fire department, I wasn't too worried about baking home alone. I set the timer on the oven, and my phone, so I wouldn't forget it was in there.
The cake finally cooled, and armed with the picture that came with the pan, I set about frosting it. I had decided in my head, that since my Mom is an excellent baker and when she was younger, she worked in a bakery, that frosting genes would somehow have been passed down to me.
Wrong.
I didn't buy enough frosting to cover the entire cake. Nor did I buy enough black frosting for the ears. I bought a tiny tube, for the eyes and mouth. Duh. Luckily I had Oreo's and crushed those up to make the ears and nose.
Here is a picture of the masterpiece.
