The highlight of my Wednesday night.

See, I need to give you the back story before I give you the highlight. Sorry bout it.

In the fall of 2000, some friends and I took a trip to Boston. It was, and is still, one of my favorite college years memories. And we found a bakery. A bakery that, I’ll be honest, I fell in love with.

Said bakery? Mike’s Pastry. Not the most awesome website in the world, but they never claimed to be internet nerds. They are bakers. Give ’em a break.

I don’t know what it was about Mike’s. Maybe it was Mike, maybe it was the crisp fall air, maybe it was the blue and white decor, maybe it was Little Italy that just stole my heart. Or maybe it was just the idea that me and a handful of my college buddies had actually been crazy enough to fly up there and spend our fall break and we were going wherever we wanted because HELLO we were 20 years old and mature and no one was the boss of us.

Something about Mike’s stuck with me. [In my heart and on my thighs and you are welcome for that.] And as a better Annie says, Boston is a city I like to crush on.

So last week, when my friend Molly was telling me that she was headed north, I said, with more enthusiasm than one healthy minded adult should have towards a bakery, that she must Must MUST go to Mike’s. I then continued to share with her minute and ridiculous details of my two trips to Boston and how, because I’m just not right in the head, I had paid a taxi driver to stop by Mike’s on the way to the airport last time I visited.

People. I am addicted to sugar. Deal with it.

Fast forward to Wednesday night, say around 6:15pm. I’m watching DVRed episodes of Flipping Out [duh] when I hear footsteps on my back porch.

Lo and behold, this arrived at my door. “This” being “Molly with a blue and white box.”


Are you seeing what I saw?? Sweet Molly and her travel worn box from Mike’s. It could have brought tears to my eyes. But it didn’t. If I cry over pastry, then we have proof that I take dessert too. seriously.

Truly, is that not the kindest thing? That Molly took time to bring me a cannoli? FROM MIKE’S PASTRY??

Three cheers for Molly loving me enough to get stopped and questioned by airport security for smuggling baked goods below the Mason Dixon line.

I’m not showing you the other end of the cannoli because it is absolutely none of your business how much I had already eaten at the time of the photo shoot nor is it important whether there is any cannoli left in my life.

But THAT was the highlight of my Wednesday night.

[Insert polite curtsy here.]

And good day to you.

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