It was the worst day …

Did you ever have one of those days when you wonder why you ever got out of bed?

It's a Saturday morning. I had an agenda. Bake cupcakes, paint a quick, easy project for my painting class on Monday night and be at my sister's house at 4 p.m. to see my niece Abby all dressed up for her school's homecoming dance.

8 a.m.: Time to rise and shine. (Hey. That's early for this retired gal.)

First thing I do is go for my unfinished wood icicles I plan to paint while my cupcakes bake. Gee. Surprise. I can't find them. I search everywhere I think they could possibly be. When that search reveals nothing, I'm almost positive they have to be in a cabinet I recently filled with unfinished wood pieces waiting to be painted. Now I'm not saying I have a lot of such items, but I will say, looking for them would be a time-consuming effort. Since I wanted to get my cupcakes in the oven, I put searching for the icicles on the back burner.

8:15 a.m.: I'm ready to bake the most amazing chocolate cupcakes for my niece's birthday. If I was 30 years younger I'd be baking these to sell, they're that good! Years ago, a dear family friend, Pearl Borger, gave me her coffee chocolate cake recipe for a three-layer cake. I don't know why, but that cake comes out even more moist and delicious than the recipe for the two-layer cake coffee chocolate cake.

Now here's my secret for the bestest (yes English majors, I know that's not a word but sometimes in the creative literary world we writers make up our own language) icing for these cupcakes. Are you ready? The center cream for Whoopie Pies. I use a Wilton pastry bag and a #1M icing tip. When finished, they're not only works of art with little effort but it puts a lot of icing on the cupcake. The results? To die for.

8:30 a.m.: I realize I only have skim milk, and when I bake, I like to use whole milk. So, I go to the store for milk.

8:45 a.m.: I'm ready to add the flour when what to my wondering eyes should appear in my sealed flour canister? Little tiny white worms. Ewwwwww! Now where the heck did they come from? When I remove the plastic container from the canister, there are a bunch in the bottom. Now I'm wigging out. I check the sugar. None in it but there are a few in the bottom of the canister. I check the others. I don't see any but by now I'm so paranoid, I remove everything, take the canisters outside and hose them down.

Off to Google I go. I look up mealy worms, which is what I thought they might be. I learn that the infestation didn't occur because I'm a lousy housekeeper (Whew!). The eggs were already in the flour when I bought it. Now, if you don't use the flour quickly enough (a month or two), these eggs will hatch into larvae. The larvae will eventually turn into mealy moths or weevil beetles. Since I didn't see any moths or beetles, I can't say for sure what is in my flour. I just know they are gross!

I read that to rid yourself of them, throw the flour in a garbage bag and then spray with bug spray. To clean my canisters, counter top and the cupboard above my canisters, (because I'm so paranoid the little suckers wormed their way upward,) I use really hot soapy water and then wash everything down with vinegar. The site I read on Google advises after purchasing flour or other grains, place them in the freezer for up to three days to kill the eggs/larvae.

11 a.m.: Second trip to the store to buy flour. When I walk in the house, I think I get a whiff of something not quite right but I can't put a finger on it.

Did I mention that at 8:30 a.m. I had turned the oven on to preheat and in all the excitement forgot about it?

11:35 a.m.: I'm finally ready to put the cupcakes in the oven. And voila! I discover the source of that aroma. A few days before I had made Harry an egg in the hole for breakfast. I left the frying pan, spatula and lid on top of the stove, intending to wash it later but then the insurance man came and I quickly threw it all in the oven … out of sight. And promptly forgot about it.

Until now. I quickly grab a potholder, take it out of the oven, storm over to the door and throw it all out in the yard.

I see the plastic knob on the lid now looks like a cookie. I notice the plastic handle of the spatula is missing. I hurry back in the house, which now smells like a plastics factory, the smoke alarm is going off, and lo and behold, there on the floor of the oven lies a big, black puddle of what I can only assume had once been the spatula's handle. I close the oven door, wave a dish towel to shut up the alarm and turn the oven off. I let it cool to see if the plastic will harden to be easier to remove.

Frustrated, I grab a bag of chips, pour myself a Coke, plop myself down in front of the TV, find an old movie I can't believe I never saw before and drown my sorrows.

12:30 p.m.: I check the oven. It's nice and cool. I reach inside and by darn that melted plastic just lifts right up. I'm amazed at the shape of it, which looks like a puffer fish. I decide to keep it, paint it and tell people it's my latest crafting project.

12:35 p.m.: I put my cupcakes in the oven and have my fingers crossed they don't come out infused with the noxious aroma of melted plastic.

12:38 p.m.: I'm ready to make my frosting. As I search the pantry, I come to the devastating conclusion that I am out of powdered sugar. I can't help it. I let out a blood-curdling scream of frustration! I say aloud, "I absolutely positively refuse to make one more trip to the store!"

I plan to stop at the store on my way home from seeing Abby off to her dance. I resign myself to the fact that I'll be frosting cupcakes later that night.

12:42 p.m.: I have enough time to tackle the search for the missing icicles. I had ordered 36 of them earlier in the week, knew they had been shipped and would probably arrive by UPS momentarily.

1:46 p.m.: I admit defeat. The icicles must have melted because they are nowhere to be found. I'm so PO'd, I say the heck with everything, pick up a new book I've been dying to read and spend the next hour and a half enmeshed in the fictional telling of the life of George Sands as told by Elizabeth Berg in "The Dream Lover."

3:45 p.m.: I leave to see Abby in her pretty blue dress. On my way home I stop at the store, FOR THE THIRD TIME THAT DAY, for my powdered sugar.

4:45 p.m.: I pull up to the mailbox to get the mail and there is the box of icicles I've been waiting for all day and wonder what time they were delivered and why did I think they were coming by UPS?

4:57 p.m.: Harry comes home from work and we're sitting at the dining room table, catching up with each other, competing for who had the worst day. As we're talking, I open the box of icicles.

5 p.m.: Just when I thought my day couldn't be worse, I stare at box full of 4" icicles. I had ordered 6" ones. I lay my head down on the table. I can't decide whether to kill myself or laugh my head off.

5:01 p.m.: Harry wants to know what's wrong. I tell him.

5:02 p.m.: Harry concedes. "OK. You win. Your day was definitely worse than mine."

5:03 p.m.: The day is picking up! I just won the "My Day Sucked Worse Than Your Day Award."

5:45 p.m.: My prize is dinner out at a local favorite pizzeria.

8:56 p.m.: I frost the last cupcake.

9:32 p.m.: I clean up the last of my dirty dishes. I'm emotionally exhausted.

9:48 p.m.: It's time to put this day out of its misery. And me, too.

9:49 p.m.: Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord, another day like this, You can keep. Just saying, Lord. Amen.