“What the f*ck?” Wednesday

A friend in the neighborhood is expecting her second child, so a few of us decided to throw her a little pampering party. (Because people are incredibly reluctant to agree to an actual baby shower for their second. What’s up with that? It’s not like we asked you to wear white pants before Memorial Day.) Manis, pedis, brunch and mimosas at a local salon … and the only gifts were diapers. Easy. We divided the food list up and it was done.

Last Saturday, I called the girls to make sure we had everything covered. Nam, who was handling cake and fruit salad, tells me she hasn’t really figured out the petit fours yet, but she’s on it. This was at 5 p.m. on Saturday for an 11 a.m. party on Sunday. I give her a little tough love and figure she will just get a cake at the grocery store and be done with it.

On Sunday morning, she shows up with these …

Of course we all ooh and ahh about how cute and fabulous they are. Come to find out, she MADE them. Not only that, she’s never made petit fours before, she just decided to try. Oh, and they were delicious. And the flowers? She made those too. Out of gum paste (whatever that is).

WTF? I guess next time I should just worry about my hash brown casserole and leave Nam alone. Not that I expect any less from her. She’s one of those Super Moms who has it all under control. Three children under 4 … no problem. Nurse twins? Handled it. Baby books? All done. (I’m still working on Anabella’s.) Completing her PhD. Uh huh.

Luckily, she’s really laid back and cusses like a sailor, so we can still be friends even when she shows up with professional-looking petit fours that she just threw together the night before.

— The B.S. Cafe is now serving pastry envy.

P.S. What’s Scarlett sitting on today? HOLY CRAP it’s an actual chair!

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