The Case of the Missing Cupcake

Cupcakes similar to the one I almost got to eat.

 *names and identifying descriptions have been omitted to protect those involved

Last Saturday a friend of mine sent me a text about a bake sale in which she was participating.  She said she had spent 2 hours baking pumpkin cupcakes with cinnamon cream cheese frosting, and was trying not to be offended that everyone was purchasing the store-bought vanilla cupcakes with the bright orange, green, and purple frosting and topped with Frankenstein rings.  She also sent a photo of her cupcakes, and they looked delectable.  I told her so.  I responded that I would buy her cupcakes any day--no Frankenstein rings necessary.

At church on Sunday, my friend came to me and said conspiratorially, "I brought you a cupcake."  YES!  I thanked her profusely, and said I couldn't wait to try it.  She told me she had placed it in the back of the Primary storage closet in a very inconspicuous place.  She gave me very specific directions on where to find it.  I went to the closet shortly after she told me, and when I looked in the secret place for my prized cupcake, it was G-O-N-E.  Neither one of us could believe it!  No one else could have known it was there, as she had told me about the cupcake privately.

She and I shared the cupcake mystery with a couple of the other adults in Primary.  They were as puzzled and astonished as we were.  What could possibly have happened to it in the 10 minutes between the time she told me about it and when I went to get it?  We thought perhaps one of the children took it, but quickly dismissed that thought.  They know not to get into the closet.  The cupcake was also hidden from plain view (although it was within sight if you knew where to look).  It was a mini cupcake.  And it was pumpkin-flavored--certainly not as attractive to children as a brightly colored cupcake with a Frankenstein ring on top.  It was certainly one of the greatest unsolved mysteries of all time.  (Or at least that hour.)

A little while later, I happened to be walking down the hall to check on our classes, and I saw one of the other adults in Primary standing near the closet.  I figured it couldn't hurt to ask if she had seen it, perhaps thinking it had been there a long time and inadvertently thrown it away.  I asked her, "You didn't happen to see a little cupcake in here, did you?"  And I pointed out the hiding place.

She looked at me and said, "I ate it."

I tried to hide my shock and disappointment.  "Oh.  Okay."

She began to explain herself: "Well, it's just that I had left a cupcake in the closet last week, and forgot it was there.  So when I saw it, I thought it was the same one I had left.  As soon as I took a bite of it, I realized it wasn't my cupcake after all...did it belong to someone?"

"Yes, my friend had brought it for me." I said slowly.

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine.  At least now I know what happened to it."

But honestly--WHO EATS SOMEONE ELSE'S CUPCAKE?!  I'm fairly sure this adult is older than I am.  Why the childish explanation?  I would rather she had said (sheepishly), "Yes, I ate it.  It looked SO delicious, and the temptation was more than I could bear."  I would have had a good laugh with her and asked, "Did it taste as wonderful as it looked?"  And in my mind, she would have replied, "It was BETTER."  And we would have laughed a little more and all would be right with the world.  Instead, by eating said cupcake and then making up an obviously fake explanation, she caused AWKWARDNESS.

So awkward, in fact, that I just can't seem to let it go.  I've been doing my thing the last few days, when all of a sudden, I will shake my head and say, "Who EATS someone else's cupcake?" and then launch into a monologue that includes such gems as:

"Didn't her parents teach her not to take other people's stuff?" and

"How could she possibly believe that my little mini pumpkin cupcake with cinnamon cream cheese frosting was the same one she supposedly left in the closet FOR A WEEK?" and

"This is what's wrong with our society!  People who think they're entitled to stuff that doesn't belong to them!"

And just for dramatic conclusion, I end with, "Things like this always happen to people like me.  Because I'm just too NICE."  And then I'm fine for another couple of hours until it happens again.

I've shared this story with my husband, my parents, my brother, Erik, and my sister.  Erik said, "What does that say about her, that she would willingly eat a cupcake that's a week old?  It could be literally covered with bacteria."

"Or rat poop!" Lexie chimed in.

At the very least, it would be so stale and rock hard it would be better used to plug a hole in a boat.

When I told my dad I thought she might be a kleptomaniac, he said, "No, because kleptomaniacs don't think they've taken something that doesn't belong to them.  She just wanted the cupcake."

I never told my friend who ate my cupcake.  I didn't want to cause more awkwardness.  But I actually asked my husband if I should tell my friend--what happens if she brings it up sometime?  His answer: "She probably won't."

But what if she DOES?  I really thought about this and figured out that the onus isn't on ME to tell my friend what happened to the cupcake.  Either the cupcake-eater has to fess up, or stay silent knowing that I know she's a dirty-rotten-baked-good-snarfing hooligan.

I actually had to call the Person Who Ate My Cupcake yesterday about something unrelated.  In our conversation, she mentioned she was feeling "well enough", which prompted me to ask if she had been sick.  (Why did I ask?  Because I'm nice.  See above.)  As soon as I hung up, my mom called from the other room, "Aw. Was she sick?  Did you ask her if she ended up with a stomach ache after eating your cupcake?"