"As long as you and your sister make these cake pops, that's all you have to do for me for Mother's Day."
Well, naturally, I didn't listen. I got my mom a bottle of Frost Bitten Ice Riesling, which she LOVED. She was totally surprised and went on a tangent about how she was only able to surprise her mother like that three times in her whole life. Obviously I did something right!
Then there was the box of cake pop mix that sat dauntingly on the counter top. Seemed simple enough: all my sister and I needed was an egg, some oil and some water, add the cake mix, bake it, add frosting, shape into balls, dip in chocolate, and top with sprinkles. After wrestling with confusing directions ("Add cake mix to batter" and "Add half the frosting packet") (which left us with half a frosting packet you had nothing to do with), we tried to shape them into uneven, meatball-sized cake balls. Then things started to get a little unnerving:
A: "Place chocolate-dipped stick into cake ball."
A: "nonononoNO!" *cake ball splits in half*
Then came the dipping-in-melted-chocolate part. If the cake pops didn't break apart inside the molten chocolate bowl, they fell off the stick in midair and splattered chocolate everywhere. (A: "nonononoNO!" *SPLAT*) Amazingly, we managed to get all 11 cake balls (the directions said it yields 20?) onto the cookie sheet, and instead of adding sprinkles to all of them, my sister just scattered sprinkles all over one and gave up. When we got all the sticks to stand up straight again, we finally had our gift for Mom:
Even Bridget Jones would have been embarrassed. Mom, at least, thought the whole thing was hilarious. "They still taste good!" she said through a mouthful of cake-chocolate-icing-sprinkle-stick. "I'm glad you and your sister had fun. See, you two had a good time together."
Well, there's that, too.