The Reason Why You Don't Click on Random Links

My mom told me to check my Google+. So I logged in and checked my notifications. It was one of my expectations: a recipe that, of course, I was going to make. I read through it and let out an internal groan.

Remember my last post, the one where I talked about my folding problem? I had no idea whether my mom was trying to make me feel bad or encouraging me to keep trying folding. Whichever it was, the word 'fold' in that recipe yanked my heart down. I couldn't fold. Let's rephrase that. I CAN'T fold. That's the real reason my closet is so empty. Joking. That was a lame joke.

Anyhow, my mom told me that she didn't even read the recipe, which triggered my whole body to go and facepalm a wall.

However, one day, my sister suggested we make it. She told me to begin and tell her to come only when the folding had to be done. (My sister has much more experience in baking than I do.) So, everything went well. We baked the brownie part first, poured the butter cake over it, blah, baked it, blah blah. Then, when we took it out and cut it, BOOM! The cake exploded.

'Kay, it didn't, but it was something close to that. Apparently, the cake hadn't been cooked completely through. Butter cake batter oozed like blood from a wound out of the butter cake part of the cake. It flowed out slowly, just like my tears would have if I'd felt like crying. Fortunately, the flow shocked me, not saddened me. My sister put it back in the oven and went to take a shower. (TMI much) She didn't set the timer, so I was supposed to watch over it. So I looked at it and poked it with a cake tester shaped like a chef. (We call him "the Man")

Nothing stuck to him, which meant the cake was done. I took it out, didn't burn myself, and remembered to turn off the oven. (I usually forget) I looked at the place where the flow had come from, and there was no flow. (I find this description fairly disturbing)

I told my sister to take pictures. She actually listened.

One of the slices unaffected by the flow

One of the reasons it failed: the milk.

We did have milk. About ten tablespoons left. It looked okay. But it did not smell okay. Therefore, it was NOT okay. I substituted with some chocolate almond milk we happened to have, fortunately. Still, my sister was mad at me. Then, she came to me saying that spoiled milk is okay to consume if it's cooked.

Well, she didn't exactly use my sophisticated wording, but she said something like that. That made me feel a little better, but it was already in the oven.

I'm probably going to try and make this again (hopefully I learn to fold by then). And with that I conclude today's rant.

Oh wait. That's for Rant Files...

-N