LOOK y'all. What am I supposed to DO with this?

So I got invited to go to this playdate by a girl at my church. She's invited some other moms and their kids as well, and it's going to be a luncheon-type thing. Fine. I asked what I could bring. Nothing. But I hate showing up with nothing in my hands, so I told her that I had a great recipe for brownies (and yes, they are homemade and friggin delicious) and that I would bring those.

Here is my special pan.

It claims to cook brownies so evenly and perfectly and you just pull the divider out, and *voila*- perfect brownies.

Except I Pam-sprayed the MESS out of that divider and pan and look what I got.

It's like a war zone.

A measly four turned out. And I don't even think they look all that good.

So now I'm stuck going to the store, buying some cookies or brownies, slapping them on one of my plates, and trying my best to pass them off as my own.

I'm also stuck with eating this mound of gooey chocolate deliciousness because I REFUSE TO WASTE GOOD CHOCOLATE DAMMIT.

Also, Sam has decided that it is now awesome to wake up at 2am every morning because he lost his pacifier and doesn't want to open his own eyes to find it himself. And then right as I'm falling back to sleep (it seems to take F-O-R-E-V-E-R for that to happen for some reason...), Steve gets up to go to the bathroom at 3. And then his alarm clock goes off at 4. And then Sam starts crying again at 5. And he wants to be up FOR REAL RIGHT NOW MOM at 6. And I feel like I've been up since 2, having weird dreams and wondering if I shouldn't go sleep on that wonky mattress in the guest room.

Here is what I WANT to be doing.

And this is who wants to play and entertain me with his spastic crawling and high-pitched squealing.

I think I'll go stick that brownie mess on top of some ice cream and call it a day. If I don't wake up when Sam starts crying, hit me with an insulin shot. Thanks.