Last night, while everyone was watching TV and doing homework in the great room, I busied myself in the kitchen cleaning up dinner and getting ready to shut it all down for the night. While wiping the counter I came across the box holding the peach cake. As I peeked though the cellophane window on the box, I was so excited to see no one had eaten more of it during the day. I thought to myself maybe I should have a sliver - I mean, I was the one doing all the work in the kitchen, right? So I sliced a little off and popped it in my mouth. I kept cleaning, but was nagged by the thought that that piece of cake was really much smaller than I intended it to be - it hardly qualified as a slice, really. So I convinced myself that I could have a second small piece to make up for the skimpy size of the last one. I ate it over the sink.
This morning, the kids were off to school and Geoff was upstairs preparing for the day. I thought I'd sit down, have a little tea - we are forced to drink tea instead of coffee right now because Geoff broke the carafe on our coffee maker (another story completely) - and maybe
I was pretty psyched. I had my iPad ready for a nice Pinterest session, my tea had steeped, and I was blissfully alone. I sat at the counter, fork in hand (I intended to eat straight from the box without shame) and lifted the lid to reveal my tasty, moist, peachy breakfast treat. Milliseconds after the lid reached its full extension, I saw something on the cake. A spot. I thought maybe it was a crumb from my snack session last night, so I looked closer. NO! It was a tiny, but very obvious, speck of mold. I considered cutting around the mold and still feasting on pastry, but I'd watched some show on TV that explained the mold we see is just the tip of the iceberg - there's actually a lot of invisible mold nearby - so there was no way I'd be able to block out the voice of that TV scientist and forge ahead with my meal plan.
I tossed the cake in the trash, the box in recycling, and a piece of bread in our toaster with an air of disappointment tinged with concern. It's not so much that I didn't get to enjoy my cake for breakfast, but I can't stop wondering if it had mold on it last night, and I ate it without knowing because the kitchen was a little dark, and now I'm living with peach upside down cake mold in my system. I'm sure there is a lesson here, maybe about not eating cake in the dark? Or the pitfalls to using food as a reward? Clearly I have much to ponder while I Google signs of upside-down cake mold poisoning.
I'm wearing this today:
I think the plaid speaks to the 'Back-to-School' theme of the our week, and the white pants address 95 degrees and knees that look kinda funky.
gratitude: the return of morning chaos, open kitchen windows, sunrise, the smell of clean clothes
thanks and love.