I made a cake, a perfect, light fluffy, rich, beautiful vanilla sheet cake from my mother-in-laws chocolate sheet cake recipe (that I've de-chocolated) for my family a few nights ago. I set it outside to cool and in fact, if froze and in other fact, I forgot about it until it was far too late to eat. I woke up the next morning looking at that cake thinking, Grrr. The whole point was that it was supposed to be dessert for my family and guests . . . it was supposed to make us all happy and my nephew and his girlfriend and my sister to all feel special and loved and all the good things special desserts make us feel. Only, I forgot about it. And none of that happened. It was morning. The cake was not even frosted and I had a meeting to go to and my nephew was leaving soon. It was breakfast time. And so what did I do? I frosted that baby. Took it to my morning meeting and cut it into wide pieces and served it, instead of the granola and yogurt and unsugared fruit I was