I have wanted to go to Hey Cupcake! since I first saw that adorable darn cupcake beacon spinning atop a shiny vintage RV.
At Hey Cupcake!, I had the “special.” Yes, cupcake trailers have specials. This was a cherry sublime cupcake. And it was sublime in all the ways a $3.00 cupcake should be: the icing was super rich and there was a lot of it, the cake was moist and super rich, and there was a wonderful little sour candy cherry placed perfectly in the middle of the really thick icing. It was delicious. I ate ¾ and then stopped. My husband, despite having this conversation for many years, tried to coax me to finish the cupcake. “Oh, just eat the rest,” he said (I would, of course, rather him say this than tell me I probably should throw the rest out; not fair of me, I know).
“No, I’m full.”
“Oh, c’mon,” and so forth until I finally just threw it away. Which really, he was fine with because food trailers only have outside seating and it was 103 degrees in Texas that day, so he was ready to move on over to the air-conditioned bookstore. Of course, before we left, being the kind husband he is, he decided we should buy the mini-sampler of cupcakes with six adorable cupcakes of probably 800 hundred calories each.
“We should get the mini-cupcake sampler,” he said.
“Ohh, I don’t think so,” I said, hating that he put the thought in my head but knowing it was a gesture intended to make me happy. Photos of icy, gooey cupcakes might really increase my blog traffic, and, of course, they would taste wonderful. “No, no,” I said pushing the tempting thoughts away.
“Are you sure? There’s a red velvet cupcake in there,” he said, knowing my weaknesses.
“Yeah, okay, maybe” I said , but then raising a finger very seriously at him said, “but you have to hide the cupcakes from me.”
“Fine, Irene, I’ll hide the cupcakes,” he said and rolled his eyes. To some, this might sound like a strange demand, but there is a long history of me demanding that Ben hide sweets from me. It’s caused a few arguments.
“Just don’t eat the sweets,” he says. Of course, he is right, but the problem is Ben won’t eat the sweets. He’ll bring them home, and I’ll finish a box of cookies in a week. A week and a half later, B will walk in the kitchen and innocently ask me, “Where are all the cookies?”
We got home and put the cupcakes in the fridge (B must have forgotten he agreed to hide them). I took some photos of them and didn’t eat any that night. In fact, I actually forgot about them (there are first times for everything) until two nights ago when B took a bite of one. Now, this morning, only about twenty-four hours later, there is only half a carrot cupcake left. I know B likes carrot cake, so I was being nice. Relationships with food are complicated.
This blog was first published in August, but I did some edit so I reposted.