My favorite time of the day is not now. 

No, it’s in the evening, usually around 7:30, when I bring in the dogs for the night, sit back in the recliner and kick my feet up while I click on The Daily Show I recorded earlier.  I am usually about a week behind on my television viewing so while the rest of y’all are enjoying today’s gaffes and one-liners, I am still chuckling over President Obama’s hamburger run.  It is breathlessly covered by MSNBC as the equivalent of Jesus’ miracle with the loaves and fishes. Fox News, on the other hand, gives the story its usual slant: “In an abortion-fueled frenzy, President Obama slaughters child’s pet bovine, Daisy, mother of four, in bizarre secret-Islamic ritual.  Mustard and other pagan condiments are said to be involved.”

That “ahh” feeling, which by the way is so good it really should be regulated by the FDA, is a long time coming.  The day starts off a bit rough.

First, I have somehow managed to gain two and a half pounds while I slept.  I don’t mind gaining weight if I can remember doing so.  I would gladly put up with the tight clothing if I could reminisce on the pleasure of inhaling an entire box of Dove Bars (cardboard included) or whipping up a batch of cookies and only getting six out of a double recipe due to excessive dough-testing.  But I didn’t do any of those things.  So, instead, I leave the bathroom to face the day with my horns out.

My dad always said I had my horns out if I was in a testy mood.  It’s genetic.  My son got my brown eyes and curly hair (which I would truly like back since I’m beginning to get as bald as Jamie Lee Curtis of Activia fame) but my blonde-haired, blue-eyed daughter only got my non-retractable horns.  My daughter’s current mood is in large part due to me buying cupcakes at Costco for the band.  The high school band which includes my son on baritone sax and my daughter on flute; not only won Districts (again) and went to State (again,) they came in second place in the entire state of Oregon.  Suck on that athletic teams that always get all the attention!  Neener, neener.

So I bought cupcakes and since they were sold at Costco, they were sold in packs of 20 and the band has 44 kids in it (of course) so I had to buy 60 and that embarrassed my daughter no end.   The cupcakes are, naturally, huge and could probably double as paperweights, doorstops or possibly bowling balls.  She was so mortified, she stayed with Beloved Spouse while he paid and I went to get frozen yogurt and smoothies only to return to find him being ripped a new one by the strange lady behind him in line who was berating him for buying salted peanuts for our freeloading squirrels.  Not content to have one victim, she pounced on me as well.  I replied the salt gave the squirrels a tasty marinade.

Okay, I didn’t really.  I just thought of it in the parking lot which made me laugh so hard I snorted my frozen yogurt which shamed my daughter even more to the point she announced she now hates all cupcakes and will never be caught within 50 miles of a cupcake for the rest of her given life.

Furthermore, when we got home and showed my son what I had purchased, he called his friend and found out the band director’s wife was making cinnamon rolls for the band and we couldn’t take in the cupcakes on the same day because that would be rude.

Well, excuuuuuuuuuse me but what am I going to do with 60 cupcakes? The band director suggested the freezer.

So I’ve thought about it and have decided there’s really only one option.  Cupcakes: the perfect ending to a hearty meal of salted peanuts.