The first of the cake problems came when I had just begun mixing the dry ingredients. I stopped mid-baking soda scoop to answer the phone and then had to go move the car to another position in the garage for my husband to be able to park the other car (Mazda #2) closest to his tools.
Thinking that I’d only be a minute, I didn’t bother to grab shoes.
In retrospect I really wish I’d grabbed a pair of flip flops.
After a quick bandage job, I was back in the kitchen. But it wasn’t until after I’d added both the baking powder and the baking soda that I realized that in the whole car-moving bloody-foot fiasco I’d mixed up the measurements for the two agents. I now had twice as much baking soda as I needed sitting on top of my flour.
So the genius inside of me though, oh I’ll just scoop half of that out and proceed as though it never happened. . .
Stop shaking your head, it gets better.
After an intermission where the husband and I went out for dinner, I got back to the making of the disaster cake. I whipped up the rest of the batter, filled the pans, and stuck the pans in the oven.
(Five minutes later…)
Wait, is that a third of the flour mixture I see still in the bowl?
I soon realized however that my pans were too full. The batter was going to spill over. Ah hah! I’ll just place this piece of tin foil on the next rack down so that the spilled batter will land on the foil instead of the rack and coils. Then the rest of the cake will bake perfectly and life will be bliss.
After a few minutes of watching anxiously as a disaster occurred in my oven, I threw in the towel.