It Gives Me a Warm Fuzzy Feeling

In an effort to maintain the illusion that I am a 1950s housewife, I have participated in a number of different events and/or activities this year to keep up the facade. I have started and participated in Suppa Club, the 21st version of a knitting circle only cooler and with no yarn. I have taken a sewing class and made a vest, pillow shams and a sewing accessories bag (the bag has since become The Boy's crayon storage container). But most of all, I have turned all my holiday energies to baking like a mad woman, pretending I have nothing else to do like work and sleep. In the last two weeks I have made a chocolate cake, cupcakes with homemade frosting, toffee bars, about 12 dozen cookies and fudge. Whew, I am tired.

Why in the world am I doing this? Well, I think it goes back to the silly innate need to make people happy and often times in America, we make people happy through food which in turns makes us happy when the reaction to the food is good. I know, it is an absurd cycle. You feel good, then I feel good, and I want to make you feel good again, so here's a chocolate pound cake....eat it up.

The Husband loves when I bake. It makes him happy. There are certain varieties of baked goods he does not like as much as others however. Give him an oatmeal raisin cookie and he is in heaven. Give him a brownie and he will frown, but still eat it. They are not his favorite. I learned this year that neither one of us particularly cares for traditional fudge, the chocolate kind with walnuts. This was after I had made a big pan of it. I tried to get ride of it, but it is so rich, people will only eat one piece. Finally, over the weekend, I tell The Husband he has to take it to work. I cut it up in little pieces, wrap in in wax paper and put it in a cookie tin. Off to the office it goes despite The Husband's thoughts that no one will eat it.

Yesterday morning, I make my first phone call to his office only to find out the fudge is already gone. This is at 9:30 AM people, The Husband gets to work around 8:15 AM. A little over an hour and ALL THE FUDGE IS GONE!

Last night, The Husband comes into the house empty cookie tin in hand and tells me to look inside the canister. I already know it is empty, so I open it up and there is a note from The Husband's big, big boss.

"I don't know who made this fudge, but is is amazing. When can we expect another batch?"

I made someone I don't remotely know happy....time to make more fudge.