Laugh or Cry Cupcakes: We Laughed

So I decided to make Red Velvet cupcakes for the family for Valentine's Day. I started at about, oh, maybe 1 a.m. It's so hard to get the batter into the paper liners neatly, and to divide it equally among them is next to impossible for me to do too. But not to worry, somehow love saw me through, and I took the extra time to do the very best job I could do with it. Too bad no one was awake to take pictures of the whole tedious, painstaking process for me. After they cooled I made the rich and fluffy cream cheese frosting. But then I remembered how the boys usually do the frosting for me, I am baaad at it. Oh well, my motto is carry through, so let's just get it done, I think to myself. The recipe said to pipe it on, but I don't know how to pipe. I'll have to settle for globbing it on. The more frosting the better, right?

It's about 3 a.m. now, so after I do a taste test, (yum), I shove them into the fridge and go to bed, falling asleep with the happy knowledge that I've done Valentine's Day up right. I'd mailed valentines to all the kids, and made cupcakes for those here at home.

Here's where the story takes a sad twist. When I took them out of the refrigerator this afternoon, I felt juice running all over the platter they were sitting on. I dashed over to the sink to drain off this unwanted, unknown liquid that was about to ruin my valentine surprise. Several cupcakes fell into the ssink, but most of the others seemed to be ok. I then scurried back over to the fridge to see if I could figure out what this liquid was. Grape juice, oh no, not grape juice. Dan came downstairs soon after and said there was grape juice everywhere. I'd wiped up the shelf, but it was on the other shelves as well, plus on the counter, down the front of the dishwasher, and on the floor. He cleaned it up for me! Thank you, sweetheart, this makes up for no chocolates. (We did share a Midnight Truffle Blizzard after stake conference last night.)

So everything's fine. Seven cupcakes were salvaged. The mess is no more. And in our cottage there is joy, because there's love at home.