I’m in trouble.
I ate cake that was verbotten.
My kids are punishing me.
And I made them do it.
Here’s the story morning glories: The twins just had seperate birthdays (one horse themed, other was Star Wars, so you can see how this is a good thing.) Seperate birthdays means… seperate cakes. My son a vanilla Star Wars cake with its’ white frosting airbrushed (?) colors, my daughter’s a vanilla/chocolate ice cream cake from a fabulous purveyour of iced fatty delights known as Nona’s Ice Cream in Hingham, MA. We’re talking heavenly stuff here my friends.
So all the copious extras were cut-up, and frozen for treats later.
But not much later.
All I can say was they were winking at me. I thawed out some cake for my family, but snacked on it until … it was almost gone. Whoops.
And off I went my merry way.
So back from yoga I bounded into my sweet family eating dinner… and was totally and completely busted. By my husband. My daughter. My son(s).
“Mom YOU ate the cake!”
I was caught dead to rights. I ‘fessed up.
Then I told them I, having broken the rules, that I should be punished.
(Now the looks on their faces at this were priceless, but I had done wrong and why should I be above following family rules? You lead by example in both good and bad I say. You do the crime, you do the time.)
My son’s first idea “No computer for a week!”
Umm, that’s going to happen kid. Try again.
I can do Drudge, news, my Google reader (oh, Prez Hilton on RSS? Ahh no) but no straight-up gossip.
It was fair, and I’m handling it. Gossip is the yin to my more tech/cerebral yang- I use it as a mental palate cleanser. So as my natural instinct says, check out FT.com…. then hit Cocoprez.com I have to skip the last and go read up on Brian Solis’ PR 2.0 or Springwise.
All I can say is Thank goodness TheCoolHunter is still not off-limits.
My sentence ends Friday.*
*As in week, I’m thinking work week, not 7 days. That’d be just cruel.