I have such strong, fond memories of food. When I was little, I remember coming home from school and opening the door of my house to the smell of freshly baked chocolate cupcakes. The smell was so warm and enveloping. It would carry me down the hall and into the kitchen, where my mom was putting the last touches of icing on. She would be standing there in her apron with a tall glass of cold milk in one hand and a warm cupcake in the other. She’d have a huge smile on her face and ask me how my day was. O.K. Ummmmm… So right now, my mom is wondering who’s blog she accidentally clicked on or what strange, crazy drugs is her daughter taking.