It may not have been a sweet roll but Bubbahkin did have a cupcake today. We went to a birthday party today for my wife's friend's son (my wife keeps calling him Bubbahkin's boyfriend). I was surprised today, there were three babies there (including her) and no one left with a scratch. You know how when babies get together they get all excited and start squealing and throwing arms and fists. Kinda glad my daughter isn't a khajit, those claws can be quite mean. Bubbahkin was even able to practice her shouting today. All three of the babies had a shouting duel and as much as i want to say that Bubbahkin was the strongest, unfortunately, it was the third baby at the party, man that kid had a set of lungs on him. Anyways back to the cupcake, as we were headed home from the party my wife's friend stopped us and asked us if we wanted to take a cupcake home with us. Of course my wife said yes but i don't think she realized how big of a mess it was going to make.
This cupcake was just a normal size cupcake not like the one we used for her smash cake photos (that's a whole other story) it was chocolate cake with fluorescent orange whipped cream icing, as my daughter was handed this cupcake she squealed with sheer delight. The first thing she did was pick up the icing and proceeded to shove her face in it. Shortly after she indulged herself with the fluorescent orange icing, she decided it was a great idea to smear all the cake and whatever was left of the icing on the tray. it turned into this horrid brownish orange goo. So my daughter, being the brilliant child that she is, gets bored with this brownish orange goo on her tray and tries to eat the left over chunks at the edge of the tray with her mouth. Please don't ask me why she did this as i really haven't a clue. More than likely because she was just too lazy to pick it up with her fingers and had figured that the quickest way to ingest said chunks was straight down the gullet, no utensils required.
After my wife effectively filled my camera with pictures of our daughter and the strange brownish orange goo, she took the tray of the highchair off and stood there for a good two minutes trying to figure out how to pick up our sticky brownish orange daughter. Finally she came to the realization that her armpits were most likely the safest place. As i was sitting on the couch i saw out of the corner of my eye my wife holding my child at arms length, bee-lining towards the bathtub. After about five minutes and some squealing and splashing, my wife comes out and hands me a clean Bubbahkin as if nothing ever happened.
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