Last minute requests are what kids do best

Last Thursday night, at 8:30 pm or so, Ryan came bounding into my room.

"Mommy,"  he said.

"Shh,"  I told him.

"Mommy,"  he said again.

"Leave her alone,"  Mr W warned.

I was watching Grey's Anatomy.  No one comes between me and my weekly dose of McDreamy.  The kids know this.  My husband is good enough to let me have my moment, and keeps the riffraff at bay.

"Wait a second,"  I said, as I knew a commercial was coming up.

"What??"  I asked him.

"I was wondering, you know if you could make some cupcakes for my class.  You know, for tomorrow..."

"Tomorrow ?"

"...Yeah, for tomorrow.  I would like them for the kids that can go to Fun Friday. (the reward for all work done all week, homework turned in, etc.--usually an extra recess)  I asked my teacher and he said it was up to you.  So, so do you think you could do it?  Make them for tomorrow?  And maybe decorate them?"

I sighed.  Heavily.  And I didn't bat an eyelash as said:  "No.  No way.  Do you know what time it is?  It's 8:30 and you want them tomorrow??"

"Can't you just get up and make them right now?  It's not that late."  I must have looked at him like he had 3 heads, because he took a step back.

"Look, man, I need more notice than this.  I'm watching my show, and it's not over until 9.  I am not whipping up cupcakes right now, tonight, no way.  Maybe next week, for next Friday, how about that?"

He actually looked disappointed.  Like I was the one being unreasonable.

I forgot all about it until this morning.  I was reading his class newsletter, and it has all the info regarding what the kids are doing this week, etc. This week, they read a book called "The Hedgehog Bakes a Cake."  And the vocabulary words included buttery, yellow cake, batter, perfect, and recipe.

As I emailed his teacher, I shook my head at myself.  Surely, this something I will be doing at midnight, I thought.

Yup.  I offered to bake yellow cupcakes for the class.  For tomorrow.  With chocolate frosting, as the teacher told me (I asked) that as they read the story, that's what the kids said they would do.

I told Ryan about it when I picked him up from school.  "Yellow cupcakes, with chocolate icing,"  I said.

"Um, do you think you could make them white? With white icing and sprinkles or something?"

I had to stop and take a breath.  He's gotta be kidding.

"How about,"  I responded, "yellow cake with chocolate icing?"

"Moooom,"  he giggled. 

"Or how about,"  I added, "I make none?"

"Okaaay,"  he said, "you win."

Brat.

I am now, at 11:32 pm, baking cupcakes. 

I haven't made it into the long, hot shower I've been promising myself all day, but the cupcakes are lined up like little golden soldiers on my counter.

I dig it that a little batter, a little frosting, will make his classmates day tomorrow.

And even if I smell a little dicey right now, my kitchen smells great.