Hostess with the Mostess

There they are, sitting on the counter all gooey and sweet. Mark has been baking again, this time he made his version of Hostess Cupcakes. Obviously, his are a hundred times better. None of that chemical flavored filling, or the rubberized chocolate frosting on top. Mark has used ingredients that are actually edible, identifiable food. There are two problems with Mark’s cupcakes however. First of all there are the calories. I estimate fifty thousand calories are sitting on that cooling rack. Although I know better, at least forty thousand of those will end up in and around my gut. The second problem is demonstrated by my flip flops, which have stuck to the kitchen floor as I approach the sweet little cakes. Mark you see, cannot cook or bake without making a complete mess of the kitchen. These things are dripping with melted chocolate, and have a mixture of melted butter and marshmallow sauce inside them. At least half of those ingredients have been distributed throughout the room, on the counters, on the walls, and most of all on the floor. Our kitchen is like a gigantic, sticky, fly catcher. The only thing that makes it a bit easier is Chandler. He’s been in there for half an hour licking every surface his tongue can reach. That gives me more time to kill before I actually have to clean it all up. I figure dog spit is easier to wipe down than marshmallow goo.