Confession

I must confess I broke one of my Lenten fasts this week. You see, on Thursday my goddess of a friend Kristina brought me this:

Do you know what this sight for sore eyes is? It's King Cake- straight from New Orleans, and otherwise known as 'manna from heaven'. When I saw it, I almost cried. Kristina saved this small piece especially for me (her parents ordered it for her and had it sent to Louisville). I haven't been able to find King Cake anywhere in the Ohio River Valley, and I'm not talented enough to make one- although next year, I just may well have to try to do so since it's obvious no one around here has respect for the King Cake.

When I walked in the door after class on Thursday night, the first words out of my mouth to my husband: "I'm in big trouble. I have to break my fast." He looked at me, and I explained that there was no way I was going to let a piece of perfectly good King Cake go in the trash...or anywhere else except my mouth, for that matter. He readily agreed with me. So I savored every second of it, and even shared a teensy-weensy piece with Isaac. It was oh so worth it too!