But She Does Make A Hell Of A Cake

I really thought McMama's tendency to create meals as desiccated as the Sahara was limited to the meat course. But McMama is determined to keep surprising me, as she proved tonight. This evening's menu included (what was once) a baked potato that (when she was through with it) could have easily passed for a shriveled hockey puck. But I think I'm on to her. Instead of marveling that someone so adept at baking could be so useless at cooking, I am now starting to suspect that she does this on purpose. Because when she brought out the poor, wrinkly, dried out potato, she looked at me and asked if I was planning on blogging about it. I'm kind of starting to wonder if she's just a little fame-whore, just looking for a new opportunity to be mentioned in my little corner of the blogosphere. But then, I also kind of wonder what she'll do when she finds out there's only six people who actually read this thing with any kind of regularity. Maybe start cooking food I can actually eat? A girl can dream....