Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Cupcake Ache


Hostess Cupcake at 5:00am = morning belly ache.

I blame my mom for the motivation.

And

I blame my dad for facilitating.



Hostess Cupcake will always remind me of the house I grew up in. The nostalgia outweighs the actual taste experience. Every so often a box would show up from my dad's truck. That house on 58th Street has stopped stocking the treats. But every so often, a weakness takes hold and I hear of the rare cupcake indulgence. In fact, I clearly remember an occasion where the urge was so strong that when the cupcake arrived, my mother cut my telephone conversation short. Mid sentence she interrupted me with a "Well, I'm going to have a hostess". That night I lost the attention battle to a cupcake.

I stopped at a gas station during my last long drive and headed indoors for some sugar to get me through. Craving a soft, chocolaty parcel ... I thought of Mom and knew what I was looking for. Nonexistent. Disappointed. I somehow lost to a cupcake again. I admitted my hostess failure to my mom later.

My dad comes up last night bearing a scanner and a printer that I won't have the luck of compatibility with, I'm sure... and .... a box of hostess cupcakes. Not sleeping on my tiny couch left me up and wondering at various points of the night. At 5:00am that box seemed like a good idea. How do I keep losing to deserts?

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