Helped mummy bake some chocolate mouse cup cakes. They tasted heavenly. Had to resist all temptation, since it has ironically become a great motivation, so I ate 1. I didn't mention about the chicken puff my mummy made, and I stuffed 4 in my overly unhealthy self. Damn. I am on a streak of junk food avenue, and I'm still finding the first exite route out. Out of gas. The horror...

Back to the fun section, I was helping with the littlest things that my mummy assigned me with. Like (opposite order of occurance): piling in the mouse, watching the baking of the crust, and rolling the dough.

As usual, there was always extra dough left. I usually make snowman, go ahead laugh your arses off. But mummy commented I can't make snowman, "the dough is black..." So well, made a cookie instead. WITH SMILES.