Have you ever eaten a cupcake in the bathroom? I have. After a long week of absolute disasters, total calamities and countless near-misses, I decided to give into my inner Tastykake demon. I wheeled into the convenience store and made my way right to the Tastykake display. There it was, in all its glory – the Chocolate Junior. I handed the cashier my money, shoved the Chocolate Junior in my purse and took off toward home.
My plan was to get back before anybody arrived home so I could enjoy my chocolate prize with a cold glass of milk. However, when I pulled in the driveway, my dreams were dashed. EVERYONE was in the house. I panicked. There was not enough Chocolate Junior to go around and I was simply not in the mood to share. During my years of mommyhood, I have endured countless cold suppers, given up just about every dessert I’ve ever had and gone without because someone needed seconds. That’s what I signed up for – that’s what moms do. However, today was different. I needed my fix and I was determined to get it.
I mumbled some quick hellos and made my way straight to the only sanctuary I could find – the bathroom. I closed the door, hit the lock and flipped on the vent fan (I couldn’t take any chances that someone would hear the rustle of the wrapper). I pulled the Tastykake out of my purse, peeled back the wrapper and sunk my teeth into the best mass-produced, highly caloric, overly sweet cupcake in the grocery store universe. I was lost in Tastykake heaven and it was wonderful.
A quick pound on the door snapped me out of my Chocolate Junior euphoria – I flushed the wrapper (thank goodness it didn’t clog the toilet or the jig would have been up), swallowed my cupcake hoarding guilt and rejoined reality. Sometimes desperate cupcake times call for desperate cupcake measures.