I fear my carb free soul is in mortal peril. Recently, tools of the devil have been mysteriously appearing in my home. First, it was a baking sheet. Then a cooling rack. Then this evil behemoth of a mixer showed up one day.
Finally, I knew it was the beginning of the end when the most devilish, anti-Atkins device on the planet magically appeared: vanilla extract.
Now I have never extracted vanilla in my life. In fact, I know of not one single historical instance of vanilla extract magic potion ever being used in the creation of a garden salad, broccoli and cheese, or steamed spinach. It's just not done. So when the vanilla extract crept through the shadow of night to lurk in my cabinets, I knew there would be trouble.
Sure enough, the beautiful princess, who had begun to inhabit my house by day, began nightly to transform into an insidious witch with the most replete baking arsenal known to man. Her excuse was she was baking love filled creations for her children.
First, it was home made, chocolate chip cookies. Then blueberry muffins. Then pancakes with fruit flavored syrup. TWO KINDS!!!!! The nerve of this she-devil, using the innocence of her children as camouflage to practice her dark arts in my home.
Even now, I lie here upon the cold, kitchen linoleum trapped, barely able to type on this laptop. All I wanted was to find the low fat salad dressing. Is a little Italian dressing too much to ask in life?
Unsuspecting, I opened the cabinet slowly, only to be pinned to the floor by an evil avalanche of muffin cups, sprinkles, blue icing, assorted food coloring, baking soda, and yes, even Fleischmann's yeast.
If somehow this message gets through to the outside world, please - somehow, someway - send help!