While most of the world parties, I am home baking cakes.
When I got home from work today, my intention was to make one jello poke cake to take to my sister-in-law's tomorrow for a New Year's Day family dinner.
So I made a cake and put it in the oven.
As I was tidying up the mixing area, I noticed something that made me gasp.
"What's wrong?" My sweet husband was full of concern.
I heaved a very disgusted sigh and said, "Half of my fingernail is missing!"
He gave me an I-really-hope-you-are-joking look.
I held up my right hand.
He looked a little nauseous.
We both searched all over the counters, in the sink and even in the garbage. We found nothing that was small and pink.
I walked to the pantry.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Making another cake."
"Good idea," he said, not even attempting to hide the relief in his voice.
I made a second white cake, but didn't have another nice glass 13 x 9-inch pan so I used two smaller pans.
I thought to myself that it would be just my luck to find the missing fingernail now that I had already made the second cake.
My fingernails and I are just not having a very good week!
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