How to Ruin Your Kid's Birthday Cake & Give Your Family Diabetes

Step 1:  Take off your glasses.  Your vision isn't that bad.  Or so you think.

Step 2:  When following your frosting recipe, misread "1/4 cup of milk" for "1/2 cup of milk."  Confidently pour in that extra 1/4 cup of milk.

Step 3:  Wonder why the frosting is so... liquid.  Decide to just mix it faster.  Keep mixing.

Step 4:  Re-read the recipe.  Don't see a problem?  Then just keep mixing.  Mix forever.

Step 5:  When your hand is numb, read the recipe again, this time squinting and holding it an inch from your face.  Notice your mistake.  Swearing is optional.

Step 6:  Think of the most logical way to thicken the frosting.  Come up with nothing.  You never make frosting, and this entire situation is foreign to you.  Your first instinct is to add flour, but... ehhh...

Step 7:  Ask the internet!  Of course!  The internet says:

- DO NOT ADD FLOUR  (Whew!  That was close.)

- Add more powdered sugar  (You don't have any more powdered sugar.)

- Add cornstarch  (You definitely don't have any cornstarch.)

- Make your own powdered sugar by putting regular sugar in a blender  (!!!)

Step 8:  Blend up some granulated sugar.  Watch with awe as it does, indeed, turn into powdered sugar.  YOU ARE A WIZARD!

Step 9:  Confidently add about 1/2 cup of homemade powdered sugar.  Mix with gusto.

Step 10:  When the change is minimal, add another 1/2 cup or so.  Mix with hopes and prayers.

Step 11:  Taste test.  Your brain short circuits with sweetness.  It is not quite the right consistency, but you absolutely cannot, in good conscience, add any more sugar.

Step 12:  It's time to make a decision.  You don't have time to run to the store for store-bought frosting.  You have to make a bold claim and own it.  Let's do this.

Step 13:  Frost your magnificent cake with this terrible mistake.  Be not surprised when it slides down the sides in sugary waves.  But there must be something else you can do...

Step 14:  Internet!  This time it says to put it in the fridge.  It means the bowl of frosting, not the frosted cake, but you're desperate.

Puddle o' sugar

Step 15:  Chill the cake.  Stand outside the fridge, tapping your foot.  Chill faster!!!

Step 16:  It's time to leave for your in-laws' house.  Husband loads the kids in the van, as you putter and pace, waiting until the absolute last minute.

Step 17:  Remove cake from fridge.  It's cold, but at least the frosting has hardened (into a melted house-of-wax version of itself).  

Step 18:  Present it proudly to your family.  Scrape the frosting off when you serve your children, and turn your head when your husband eats more than one piece.   

Ultimate lessons:  Your 4-year-old is impressed with everything you do, especially if it involves cake, and especially if the cake itself is "violet and chartreuse" like he asked for.  The icing, ironically, didn't matter at all.  

(Violet, chartreuse, and aquamarine, to be exact)

But you should still always wear your glasses while cooking.