I've Punched the Devil in the Eye

I'm busy making muffins.

I'm a bit of a muffin maniac. They're easy to make and the combinations are endless! And who doesn't like a muffin?

People seem to be a little food-obsessed at work. I feel like we're always having food days.

I didn't feel like spending a whole lot of time preparing, so I'm making my secret reicpe ham and cheese muffins.

The last time I made them, I was furiously baking baby muffins for the baby shower.

I made lemon poppy seed muffins, also, and my first batch turned out a bit extra brown. And my grandpa wasn't going to let me forget it.

All weekend long, I heard things like "Well, this batch doesn't seem quite as charred," "Are these supposed to be black?" and "Is something on fire?"

How did I end up born to two families who love to give each other crap?

The day after the shower, my dad smoked a turkey and mashed up some taters. As everyone around the table complimented Dad on his mad skillz, Dad nodded his head and patted me on the back. "Yeah. I take after my daughter."

Grandpa started laughing. "But this food isn't burned!"

"That's it!" I yelled as I pounded my fist on the table. "I'm gonna punch you in the face!"

Grandpa just laughed and Grandma said "Uh oh, Poppa."

"Yeah, Poppy!" I bellowed. "You really crossed the line, now!"

"Well," he explained. "I like to live on the edge."