Monday, February 21, 2011

Car washes aren't as sexy when you're mouth-breathing

This post doesn't have a lot to do with car washes. It's just that I washed my car today. And my dad's car. And I can't breathe very well on account of the leprosy. Or whatever it is that I have. A cold? Oh. Well that sounds much less interesting.

At least I'm pretty sure it's also bronchitis.

I'm catching up on The Office on NBC.com because for some reason our DVR doesn't record it anymore, and rather than figuring out why, I've decided to just watch them online. That's totally easier. Plus, I could take or leave The Office at this point. It's like they just gave up. Except this last episode, "Threat Level Midnight," is all kinds of hilarious.

Anyway, they're putting commercials for NBC.com on NBC.com. Isn't that a little repetitive redundant?

So, here's the thing. Yoplait light has this red velvet cake yogurt. And ever since that I made that darn Pioneer Woman's red velvet cake for the first time, I have needed red velvet cake all the time. Need. And the yogurt has 100 calories instead of 10,000 and probably no butter or cream cheese or 18 servings either, so I like to keep it in the house.

But here's what I discovered in the snack aisle of shame on a recent grocery trip with Jack (which always turns into one giant QUICK!-throw-the-junk-food-into-the-cart event):

These are friends.

And you know what? They are also 100 calories. Yogurt that kind of tastes like cake? Or cake? So forget you, yogurt. I know you have probiotics and other good things in you, but real cake, you win.

I'm going somewhere with this, really.

So my friend Brittany came into town last Sunday, which was the day before Valentine's day, and because I am slightly crazy I decided to make a red velvet cake at 11pm. Brittany said she had never tried red velvet cake before, so I reached into my pantry and handed her one of these little cakes to try.

A few moments later, she handed it back to me.

"Um, we have a... situation," she squeaked, through clenched teeth, handing the little cake back to me.

"What's wro... oh noooooo," I said, as I saw what she was seeing. "Is it... inside?"

"I think it is," she replied, surprisingly calm considering that she was the friend who had a very hard time eating off a spoon she saw me (gasp) hand wash in college and for whom I extra-specially sanitize the guest room and bathroom when she visits. I call it "Brittany cleaning."

So I would imagine it was difficult for her to remain calm when she discovered this:



Moth larve. In the red velvet cake. Oh my cow, help.

We blamed Little Debbie at first, but upon further inspection, we discovered the larve wasn't actually inside the snack cake, but behind the fold on the outside of the plastic.

Which was bad, very, very bad.

So the next day, I began inspecting my pantry. And to my horror, I found this:



I tweeted this picture to Brittany and she responded "at least now you have something to blog about" and began trying to decide which diseases/superpowers we would get from the moths (like with the mouse).

WHY MUST SHE ALWAYS MAKE MY LIFE SO INTERESTING?

So I spent the week making my pantry look like this:



...by making my kitchen look like this:



Hold me.

So I got air-tight canisters for all my flour and things, threw out most everything that was open, and all the food I kept has been quarantined all weekend in plastic bins, and I think the moths are gone.



At least until I put everything back into the pantry.

Then they'll be back.
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