She obviously didn't look hard enough for the muffin tin (I found it easily later) because she had laid out the patty pans on cookie trays so that the resulting cupcakes varied in size and shape. Seriously, there was a jellybean shaped one. Then she had iced them with icing which had obviously not been sufficiently pliable because it looked like it had been scraped on with a butter knife.
And then she had failed to put the sprinkles on.
The icing had hardened enough that when I attempted to sprinkle the sprinkles on top, they rolled off like so many plastic balls in a ball pool. I had to resort to upending the cupcakes and smooshing them into a saucer of sprinkles, with the result that the flat icing became flatter and the sprinkles submerged.
But it was way past midnight and I had had enough.
The following morning she thanked me for putting the sprinkles on and went about her business. She didn't seem at all concerned about the look of the cupcakes and seemed blissfully unaware of their dubious status. I turned to my colleagues at work in despair.
"Do I tell her?" I anguished. "She thinks they're ok. Should I just let her put them out on the cupcake stand?"
"Is this a good time to tell you that Woolworths does 24 decorated cupcakes for $10.00?" they offered.
On the way home I picked up a pack. Just in case.
Back at home the preparations went on into the night. We set up teapots, found props to go with them, named the displays, carried the louvre backdrops down from the shed. Everyone was working. Himself devised a way to suspend a teapot in the air. The BA ironed sheets and researched tea 'facts' for a pinboard display. The hours flew by. The cupcakes and boxes of tea were packed and ready to go and the least of my worries.
As time went on we all began to flag. The BA crashed just after midnight. Himself followed at 2am, I was still ripping sheets into the required lengths and cutting up tea facts on the guillotine at 5am. I dropped into bed for a couple of hours and then I was up to take the BA to school at 7.30am. Back to bed for another hour and then Himself and I had to pack everything into his car for the trip down to the school.
There was rushing. There was stress. There was lack of communication.
Then there was a loud crash and swearing.
Himself had fallen down the stairs with the cupcakes.
I had to work really hard to remind myself that his welfare was more important than the resulting appearance of the already marginal cupcakes. In a way, it was almost a blessing. At least we now had a minor excuse for the marginal appearance of the cupcakes.
Inevitably, no-one made the slightest comment and the first round were inhaled by the ravenous boarders (boarders are always hungry)
so that the store bought 'back ups' made it into the photos.
Well, most of the photos.
Love you Baby Angel.