Not Me Strikes Again

Yesterday was my husbands birthday. Yeah, yeah, Happy Birthday to him , blah blah blah. The important part of the story is that I spent hours in the kitchen baking a big huge batch of chocolate cupcakes, with chocolate icing.

I don't want to brag or anything, after all, we are just talking about your average, run of the mill, mind numbing, mood altering, put my heart and soul into it, kind of cupcakes that I couldn't get my mind off of for...oh say, ALL DAY TODAY.

I walked through the front door and made a b-line for the kitchen and the big blue plate. The big blue EMPTY plate.

"Not Me" and "I Don't Know" had eaten every. last. one.

And by "Not Me" I really do mean "NOT ME". This has nothing to do with the Not Me Monday posting thing happening around the blogosphere today. Oh no, no, no, I deeply regret to inform you that this particular "Not Me" was clearly a child of my loins. I suspect the youngest little terd angel is the culprit, but honestly, who can put anything past any of them? Cupcake bandits.

I'm betting the hubs even tackled a few too many as well. Boggles my mind that a guy who is not a lover of chocolate (criminal!) nor a lover of cake (as if!) will eat a plate of chocolate cupcakes with all the tenacity of a 10 year old. He's weird.

Probably they did my thighs a favor. But for now I am feeling sad and victimized. Ok, not really, but can't a girl who lives in a houseful of men be a little dramatic?