Double points for not cursing out loud

Tomorrow is Stuart's 7th birthday.

I have been in the kitchen pretty much non-stop for 5 hours. I have baked and iced (with help from two monkeys) 72 mini cupcakes. I have made 6 minute chocolate cake (which takes much longer than 6 minutes, especially if made with the loving help of a 4 year old). I made dinner (really!).

But most noteworthy is the two cans of sweetened condensed milk I boiled for 3 hours. Because Stuart claims he remembers the icing on his 1st birthday cake - which was made by my South African neighbour in Luxembourg (who moved away a year later).

Can I tell you that boiling those cans scared the bejeebies out of me? That I sent same South African friend who knows how to do this (because for the love of Pete could we not have some concensus on how to do this on the internet) on Facebook to describe my terror. And that fate must have been on my side because not only did she get the message (she is rarely on Facebook) but her husband actually had my cell number and she called to walk me through it.

(Aside: The only excuse I have for the icing is that I was completely and totally PMSing when we were talking about it the other night and I was ready to go to the store, buy some condensed milk and make it on the spot (even though it was after 9 on a Sunday night). So agreeing to make it 4 days later didn't seem like a completely idiotic thing to do.)

And in all of this nothing was burnt, no heads exploded, no children went hungry and there was minimal shrieking (okay, that "For Christ's sake SIT DOWN" might not have been necessary, but hey, who's perfect?). There was a very minimal amount of alcohol consumed (who had time for a corkscrew I ask you. It had to be a shot of port that was open in the fridge. I'd never make a very good rubbie).

I thought all had gone pretty well until I was testing the water in the pot with the cans to see if it was cool. And got a look at the expiration dates on the bottom of the cans.

February 10 2008.

F*** me.

Really, I am laughing.

And my husband is going to have a wicked laugh when he gets home. If he dares.