Sometimes on a Friday night after a horrible week you shut down your work computer, wrench your stiff body out of the chair, and wander into the pantry and grab that cupcake mix you've been pretending isn't there and dump ingredients into the mixer because all you really want is a cupcake, dammit.

Then, your 4 yr old daughter comes wandering into the kitchen and gets excited about cupcakes and asks if we can finally do the special frosting she's been waiting years (or...two weeks) to use and you say yes because what the hell, what does anything matter anymore, was I on a diet, I can't remember.

And then you're looking at a dozen sparkly hot pink cupcakes at 4:30 on a Friday and the kids who "helped" are covered in neon pink frosting and sparkles and you think, well, you don't know what to think anymore. So you feed the kids nachos for dinner and give them way more than their allotted cartoon time and hope that somehow, some way, you'll be able to care about it all tomorrow.