It Looked So Pretty on the Box!

Well Christmas is over. All those weeks of decorating, cooking, baking, planning, dressing up, shopping, wrapping, and stressing are through. Back to life as normal. It is so anti-climactic, as it proves to be every damn year. What do I do with myself now?! I don't want to take the trees down just yet. I still like my holly berry wreath on my front door. My kids fought me to not throw out the rest of the Christmas dinner leftovers. (This was hugely convenient for me to simply reheat food for dinner. Bonus.) My parents left to go home to Michigan. It's just the Ghahtanis again.

So in the recycling tomorrow goes mountains of gift boxes, wrapping paper, and tissue. Goodbye giant Guitar Hero box. So long Cupcake Maker box. See ya' later plastic packaging from My Meebas. And in each of these boxes lies a multitude of those bullshit wire ties, styrofoam blocks, and tough-as-shit plastic that holds all the pieces down like these toys might face a God damn tornado before they reach our kids' greedy hands. You know the packaging crap I'm talking about. The shit that takes an act of fucking Congress to open. Your kid is standing by your side in whiney anticipation of playing with their beloved new toy. You struggle with shitty scissors, sweating under your tits and pits because this is no easy task. Fuck the scissors, give me an Exacto already!! By the time you release the precious treasure from it's plastic prison, your kid is onto their next gift and your paws are bleeding worse than Winona Ryder's at a Saks spring clearance sale when their security cameras are on the fritz.

Isabella's #1 gotta-have-it gift this year was the Girl Gourmet Cupcake Maker. It looked delicious and pretty and perfect on the box. All pink and sprinkle-covered mini cupcakes, little girls with lipgloss in bedazzled chef's hats. Frosting shooting from the pink lever pump thingie like a super soaker of sugary goo. How can you go wrong? I'll tell you where you can go wrong. Let's start with the mix. It looks like powdered cake mix. It smells like cake mix. But after a mere 30 seconds in your microwave, you have a hot foamy cakey sort of thing in a festive paper liner. It looked like a yellow Today sponge. Okay, so the frosting must make it better. Frosting makes ANYTHING better. We added the obligatory teaspoon of water to the powdery frosting mix. How can Girl Gourmet fuck up frosting? We funneled the vanilla goo into the frosting chamber of the icing rocket pump. We placed the cupcake on the swiveling stand that spirals around to ensure even, spiral frosting coverage. Or so the picture on the box claims. Inexperienced pastry wannabe liars. I helped Isabella "pull down gently" as the lumpy frosting squirted onto her cupcake in the shape of a "C". I pulled back on the lever and attempted to refrost the cupcake more evenly. I was not gentle enough because the spiraling action of the cupcake rotator made the little treat jump off and commit cupcake suicide onto the table. Isabella giggled heartily, picked up her mangled sweet, and took a bite. She gagged, asked me to scrape the "chunky and crunchy" frosting off the sponge. I sampled some and agreed. It said "Vanilla Frosting Mix" on the package but it should have been labeled "Vanilla-ish Creamy Spread Powder with Toenail Chunkies". I reread the instructions and in small print it says, "Remember! As a true Girl Gourmet, practice makes perfect!" Yeah I'll be sure to remember that the next time I try to microwave my yeasty sponge cake and top it with your flavored jizz topping. Dee-lish.