Size 13...Incoming...

Today, I brought home huge pieces of left-over Confectionately Yours cake from our annual National Junior Honor Society induction. Jen had carefully carved and covered them for me, and she even helped carry them to my truck in the rain. We put them in the back floorboard so they wouldn't slide around. When I picked Garrett up, we were so careful to avoid the floor, me lifting all 52 pounds of him straight into the car seat. BUT...

When we pulled in the driveway, I stupidly asked "Who wants to help mom bring in the trash can?" "I do, I do," my little darlings screamed. And that was that. Garrett came out of his seat and planted each foot right smack dab in the middle of both pieces of cake!

At first I was furious. I mean, hello...this is Confectionately Yours we're talkin' about here! Seriously! Then, he looked up at me with those baby blues of his, tears streaming down his pudgy cheeks, and I melted. I picked him up, hugged him close, and just promised him it was okay. The whole time, he continuously assured me it was "just an accident." Poor baby...he doesn't even like cake (I know, weird huh?), but he was so upset. Now, just peeling the foil off and surveying the damage, I just laugh. Look at those big ol' size 13 smoosh prints...