Here we have it folks, the first in what I’m sure will be an orgy of evidence to prove that klutziness is in fact genetic. Many of you may have looked at this picture and thought, “There’s she goes again.” But it wasn’t me! This “Oops!” belongs to my Mom. I guess it runs in the family.

Last week when I was making the tiramisu cake when I lost my beaters. You know, the beaters for my hand mixer. I spent close to half an hour searching the entire kitchen, resisting the urge to look through the rest of the house for them. Don’t ask me why I was compelled to search my bedroom for hand mixer beaters, but when you feel like you’ve looked in every logical place on the planet your mind suddenly jumps to the illogical ones.  

I know I got to a point where I forgot what the heck I was doing in the recipe and finally rechecked the book. The next step was to whip up some cream to make the filling and frosting for the cake…ah-ha! That’s when the light bulb went off.

You see, I had washed the beaters after using them to mix the cake batter. They were hot from the water, and being the good baker I am (HA!) I knew I had to cool them down to properly whip my cream into submission. I put them in the freezer! The lesson is, always know where your beaters are, or at least make a note to self as to where you put them to cool off. In my case this was on top of my Mom’s popsicles, next to the tortellini.