Ok, not really. But do you remember a couple of weeks ago when she called me out ON THE AIR about eating the last cupcake in the house?

It happened again this morning, but LET ME EXPLAIN.

On Father’s Day Sandy and Leah baked a rhubarb cake for me. One of my faves. Just like my mom used to make. Anyways, I’ve been killing it the last few days. Rhubarb cake has been my chaser for everything. This morning, what did you think I had for breakfast? That’s right, the LAST PIECE of rhubarb cake.

Well, Leah was less than pleased. She yells, “DADDY, you’re supposed to share!” stomping out of the room to go pout in her playroom.

Keep in mind, she didn’t even EAT any of this delicious treat that was made FOR ME on Father’s Day. She smothered it in red frosting and ate THAT, disregarding the actual cake.

I pointed this out to her, but, much like her mother, at times it’s hard to have a rational conversation.

So there you go. My home is a war zone once again thanks to my love of baked goods. And I don’t care what anyone says, I DID NOTHING WRONG HERE! I suppose I should start figuring out what kind of gift would be suitable to blackmail her make up for this.