Tuesday, October 23, 2007

You Know You've Got a Problem When...

You receive a thank-you card from a recent baby christening you attended, and in addition to the general thanks for the gift, the proud father writes:

"We'll make sure to have chocolate cake again next time too!!!"

Uhhh....

Dang. So busted.

But what I can't figure out is how they knew. It was either:

A.) The five pieces I shoved into my mouth when noone was looking, and then stacked my little plastic plates and pretended they were my sister's (hey, she just had a baby - it's plausible).

B.) The finger prints and swiped frosting left all over the cardboard that the cake sat on.

C.) The black eye I left on that five-year-old who wanted the last corner piece (that little shit was tough, man!)

D.) Someone saw me passed out in a sugar coma in the bathtub, with a ring of chocolate around my lips and under my fingernails, and and a buttercream flower neatly tucked behind my ear (to be eaten later).

Man, I swore I locked the door.

6 comments:

The Big Cheese said...

I would hate to see how would act if a cake had Mike and Ikes along with some Milk Duds sprinkled on the top.

Watch your fingers people.

Andra Sue said...

I'm pretty sure it was D. That ring of chocolate around the mouth always does a person in.

Brent Buckner said...

Hah!

Tri-Angle said...

And that's wrong because?

prin said...

"D.) Someone saw me passed out in a sugar coma in the bathtub, with a ring of chocolate around my lips and under my fingernails, and and a buttercream flower neatly tucked behind my ear (to be eaten later)."

That sounds sexy (aside from the coma part- you have to learn to handle your sugar better :D). What guy with any sense wouldn't want his very own candygirl?

It's good that they noticed too. All these showers have to have some sort of benefit, right?

The (IRON) Clyde said...

I just found out through my sis-on-law, that my parental in-laws know it's me that clog their toilets at family events...sometimes I just got to go and if there's no plunger who's fault is it really?