Does this make me a bad Mormon?

Some people learn sketchy things about themselves when they go to college. Perhaps they discover that they have an unhealthy obsession with inappropriate late-night talk shows and caffeinated beverages. They might find out that they haven't grown out of High School Musical or Justin Bieber. Worse yet, they may even ascertain that *gasp* they are just like their mother. I, too, have come to realize a truly disturbing truth about my adult self.

I hate baking. With a passion.

And not because I'm bad at it--I'd daresay my baked goods are unexpectedly delightful, actually.

Tonight I made oatmeal butterscotch chocolate chip cookie cupcakes with butterscotch butter-cream frosting.
(Please mutter that under your breath twelve times as fast as you can. Please make sure you do this with a friend in the room.)

Death in a cupcake tin? Yes. To die for? Also yes. I guess that's logical.

This is where I would post a picture of the beautiful cupcake display I spent ten minutes putting together for the sake of phony blog professionalism, but there are no cameras here and my phone's dead, so . . . here's a plagiarized picture for you to enjoy:

Despite the success, I loathed every second of mixing, whipping, baking, and icing. Sure this is in part due to my aversion to sweets, but really, I just honest-to-goodness don't like the baking process.

Hand me a frying pan and a cutting board and I'll cook you up veggies and meat dishes all day long.
(And yes husband-to-be, sandwiches too.)

Just please keep the butter, brown sugar, and frosting tips in a corner far, far away from me.

Kudos to those who bake.