Muffins

In honor of NaBloPoMo (the blog every day thing…which I see I’ve already failed at), I am writing today about muffins.  Because I am consumed with Muffin Desire.
I do not like homemade-from-scratch muffins.  No siree bob.  There is something in them (maybe the baking powder) that tastes bad to me.  Doesn’t matter whose delicious-to-everyone-else’s recipe, it’s always the same.  The mystery ingredient bites my tongue.  Yuck.
I do not like store-bought muffins (I do not like green eggs and ham, I do not like them Sam-I-Am!).  Unless they are Mimi’s Cafe muffins.  Carrot raisin or buttermilk spice.  No blueberry!
I LOVE muffins from the box.  Duncan Hines, Krusteaz, it matters not which (although streusel topping is always appreciated).  Blueberry muffins are my hands down favorite.  The ultimate comfort food.  I love them piping hot, fresh from the oven, with butter.  I love them cold and two days old, with butter.  (Are we on to peas porridge hot now?)
I like oat bran muffins doctored with grated apple and/or chopped pecans.  Again, from the box.
Even bisquik biscuits will do in a pinch.
I do not like sharing muffins, because I only make 12 at a time, and I get miffed when I feel that my muffins are disappearing too fast.  Luckily, Devo, my Perfect Complement, likes muffins, but not as much as I, so I am not martyred at every muffin bake.  While he finishes off the last of the ovaltine or biscotti, I finish off the last of the muffins.  And that is just how it should be.
I do not like waiting for muffins to bake.  Therefore, I am sitting here and blogging about muffins instead of baking them.
I wish I had a muffin.
A blueberry one.
From the box, extra blueberries.
With streusel.
<sigh>

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