Ce n'est pas un blog post.

Jack has started helping me in the kitchen.

Full disclosure:  I ordered him an apron for Christmas last year.  He had no interest.  It's been collecting dust since then.  

However, now at the ripe old age of 4 1/2, he is getting into cooking.  I am valiantly trying to ignore the part of me that can't believe MY BABY is big enough to help me cook.  As an alternative, I am trying to listen to the part of me that is so happy to have a little buddy in the kitchen.

Oh, motherhood.  Why do you have to be such a roller coaster?

Anyway, PapaDu's birthday was last week, which is OBVIOUSLY a critical cupcake situation.

Note Pablo photobomb.
"What?  Dogs like cupcakes."

Jack and I were pleased to find that Randall's selection of cupcake decorations more than suited our needs.  They had, in fact, candy eyeballs, candy mustaches, and colored icing tubes for artistic freehand expression a la cupcake.

It's sort of a chocolaty Magritte situation.  Or Picasso.  With some Jackson Pollack influence, perhaps.  

(Ce n'est pas un petit gâteau?)

Regardless of what influences you see here, rest assured that what was pleasing to the eye was also pleasing to the palate.

Hope you get all surreal today.

Talk soon,
Heather