Lighten it up

So I know my posts have been pretty heavy lately, so here's a less depressing one for all of you.

I decided to make an old family favorite, Better Than Sex cake (am I even allowed to write that word?). If you haven't had the pleasure of trying it...you really should. I dare say there's a very good chance it lives up to it's name.

Brad is going to kill me :) haha.

Seriously, though... It's 8 o'clock at night and you're exhausted. You're covered in baby spit and macaroni and cheese. You haven't showered in two days. You FINALLY plop down on the couch and put your feet up. What do you really want? To use more energy for a few minutes (cross your fingers) of real life, unromantic, I'm-too-tired-but-I'm-doing-it-anyway husband/wife relations, OR to have a huge piece of decadent chocolate cake, dripping with condensed milk, hot fudge, whipped cream and toffee bits and the only thing you've got to move is your hand to your mouth?

I dare say I know the answer.

Hey, don't get me wrong. It's been a long time since there's been ANY type of relations going on with me (is that too much information? my bad), and I'm not trying to bad mouth the glory that is sex. I'm just saying that once you reach a certain point in your life (like 8 months after you get married...or...less...), you might just have to face the reality that your priorities may have changed.

And cake is at the top of them.

So, back to the story. You pour condensed milk all through this cake once it's out of the oven, which gives it this shiny, gooey goodness. I had been trying to think of a different name for this cake, since I definitely do not want my three year old learning the word sex--in any context. She is awesome at picking the quietest, most innapropriate times to say things like, "I have a penis," which is ridiculous because of course she doesn't. haha. I do not want to add another embarrassing word to her repertoire. I can just picture her in the middle of church, throwing a fit because she wants a treat, and (referring to the cake) yelling, "I WANT SEX!" Yeah, we're going to avoid that.

Anyway, I put her piece in front of her and she looks disgusted and scrunches up her face and asks, "Are there boogers in this cake?"

Apparently the shiny/cream colored condensed milk looked like boogers to her. And I laughed. And told her yes.

And then we ate our Booger Cake.