A Short Recent History Of Baking (and DH)

As I was curled up contentedly on the sofa this evening under my requisite two comforters - as though some great drafty breeze were about to carry me off - a voice was heard to issue from a figure reclining in the deep and shadowy recesses of the armchair, next to the fireplace in the living room, where hitherto all had been silent, except for the dialogue of a peculiarly underdeveloped indie movie said figure had been watching:

"Don't we have any cookies or anything?" asked DH (a bit plaintively).

No, I replied, but I can make something, as I happen to have in my possession precisely those ingredients necessary to just such an endeavor.

"Okay."

A few moments passed while I perused several recipes, and then, having decided upon one in particular, I descended the steps to the kitchen. I made a lovely batch of chocolate cupcakes (from scratch - no horrible box cakes allowed!), and, in an attempt to keep DH's blood sugar from careening madly about like a car in a 70's cop show chase scene, I used organic spelt flour and relatively innocuous sweeteners (no refined white sugar). The final product was fluffy, light, sweet enough but not cloying. Placing several little cakes on a plate, I reversed course and ascended the stairs, fully expecting to find DH positioned pretty much where I had left him, but his chair was, alas, sadly empty.

(Oh noes!)

"DH?" I called. "DH?"

"DH, are you in the office..." No DH there.

I peeked into the bedroom, where the tale could clearly be read - DH had gone sailing with Wynken, Blynken and Nod. His primordial urge, that which has driven men from hearth and home since time immemorial, the potent desire for goodies which had assailed him earlier in the evening had inexplicably evaporated. He was asleep.

I whispered, "I baked."

DH murmured drowsily, "I didn't know where you were."

I replied, "I was abducted by aliens. But I'm back now. With cupcakes."

DH: (Unintelligible)

So, there you have it. Waxing philosophical, I'd have to say that while men, indeed all humankind, often find themselves at the mercy of conflicting urges (cupcakes? slumber? my goodness, how to choose?), no gift given in hope and grace is ever truly wasted (especially if you wrap it well or put it in Tupperware).

So, I raise a cupcake - to DH, life, love, chocolate and midnight baking adventures.

And with that random thought, I bid you good night.