Make Me Laugh Monday – A Proper Cake

Every year for Pea’s birthday, I typically make a doll cake for her. You may remember the photo from last year’s cake, which, clearly, isn’t going to get me a job at Charm City Cakes or Choccywoccydoodah anytime soon, but it tasted damn good.

This year, once again, she requested one….for her friend party, and not her family party. Which is great, since the family party now entails only the four of us, but this would entail carting a mammoth cake though 18 miles of windy, twisty, hilly English roadway.

And if she can’t keep her cookies down on a short ride, how do I transport this cake?

I found a Belle cake at the grocery store. It looked like the kind of cake she wanted…and she was thrilled with it.

Until she bit into it. It was everything she hated about English bakery cakes – a thin layer of jam (she doesn’t eat jam), not enough frosting, and fondant icing. She ate none of it. I felt like a total shit.

(Oh, and for her joint birthday party with her brother? I found a local woman who hasn’t quite officially gone into business make cupcakes for me. THEY were lush.)

So….

Ten days later, and I needed to make a cake for Boo. Now, he’s a guy, so when it comes to cake, he’s pretty much “I want cake”. Then he says sheet cake. Easy, right?

Not if you are me, with a big Mommy Fail just a week and a half prior. And because I have my pride, fool that I am.  No, dammit, I’m going to give him one FANTASTIC* cake ( because he usually DOES get a 9×13 cake-in-a-pan.)

REDEMPTION WOULD BE MINE!!!!!!!

*Disclosure: back in Chicago, I ALWAYS bought the birthday cakes from a bakery near my mom – yes, some odd 80+ miles away. I never baked my own for birthdays, so why I suddenly feel guilt for purchasing one elsewhere, I do not know.

No, I’m going to make him a tractor cake.

And a tractor cake it was. A messy, sloppy looking tractor.

I shouldn’t have been disappointed. He wasn’t. Kind of. You see…

As he snuggled in next to me at bedtime, ready to read me his book, I adjusted my pillows and groaned . (My back was killing me from bending over a cake all afternoon. Yes, it took all afternoon. It really shouldn’t look as messy as it does, but I really suck at cake decorating.)

I looked at him sheepishly and said “I don’t know if I can do that again, Boo. It took me a really long time!”

He looked at me for a moment and then replied “Well, next year – will you get  a proper cake then?”

A proper cake. *knife to my heart*

“What, my cake isn’t a proper cake???!!!!” I retorted, despite the fact that it does look like it was drawn by a 4 year old hyped up on too much sugar.

“Well, yours is a proper cake, but I mean a proper cake. From a bakery. Or that lady.”

***

Despite what it looked like, it tasted pretty DAMN delicious, and the frosting on the wheels turned our tongues black.

I’d say that redemption is mine.

 

Comments

  1. Seriously, that looks better than the “proper” cakes I buy at Target.

    I am in awe.

    And think we should job share at Shoebox.

    • 🙂 Let’s work on that Shoebox gig. I think there is a real need for a “It’s time to stop spray-tanning girlfriend. The oompa-loompas keep looking for you” card.

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