Snack

Nothing is more comforting than a soft, hot cakey muffin jam-packed with apples and spices. After being knocked on my tuckus from the flu this week, I was in dire need of some coziness from the kitchen. I will go to my death bed (and I came close this week) proclaiming that I am not a baker. My man is gifted with the baking gene, and when the holidays come he whips out his natural skills and bakes away. The one year we baked together my pumpkin pies turned out like hockey pucks. You might ask who can screw up the easiest pie in the world. That would be me. I do the cooking.After establishing this fact I was still glaring at a conundrum: a huge pile of fresh apples looking right back at me. Something must be done. How dare they stare at me with those cute little cheeks! My husband ran down the stairs to a kitchen filled with flour, sugar, spices, pumpkin and diced apples and exclaimed ?Awww! You are baking!? I grimaced, sniffled and said ?I don?t know how to bake.? Lovingly, he emitted ?Oh, yes you do.? These little words gave me the motivation to finish the task at hand.I?m proud to say there is hope for me in the baking department. It must be the Nyquil?