Cake and the F-bomb

So, it's been a great week. Matt's been at home on spring break, and we've been doing lots of stuff I couldn't normally do with Audrey, because of my health. We went to Hobby Lobby to look for Easter baskets and some other things.

Matt and I bought cake decorating supplies. Elizabeth and Nichole recently earned straight A's on their report cards, despite all the upheaval in their lives. So we decided to make them a special cake, while trying out our cake decorating skills. One of my favorite shows is Cake Boss, so I'm a little obsessed with that right now.

Well, it didn't turn out like one of Buddy's creations (big surprise), but it still looked great. Better yet, it tasted like sin. Chocolate on chocolate...let's just say half of it was gone at our family get-together last night, and the sheet cake from Publix was barely touched. Even Noah admitted that it was rich, and he's a hard-core sugar addict. Elizabeth asked for a second piece, and when I handed Nichole her plate, she said, "It's three layers!"

Back to Hobby Lobby. Matt was pushing Audrey around in the stroller, and suddenly I heard her little voice saying something I did not want to hear. Yep, this little angel



...was dropping the F-bomb over and over again. In an overtly Christian store, mind you. Now, I know what you're thinking. That she heard it from us. And although I fully admit that was a word I used a lot when I was frustrated before Audrey was born, neither I nor Matt have said it around her. It's just that she's experimenting with sounds, you know, truck, duck, puck...you get the picture. We tried not to react because, if we acted all crazy about it, she'd get the attention and use it even more. Thank God we were on our way out; otherwise, they might have kicked us to the curb.

Ah...the joys of parenthood.