Monday, July 03, 2006
So, today my four month-old, Kyle, and I went shopping at our favorite supermarket. We were minding our own business when, out of the corner of my eye, I spied a wall of Betty Crocker cake mixes. "Cake sounds delicious," said my brain, "let's get some." I obeyed. Note that I've never made cake just to make cake, but something compelled me to grab the German Chocolate cake mix along with its associated frosting.
Later, after putting the groceries away, I found myself preheating the oven, gathering the necessary ingredients, combining them in a large bowl, blending them, pouring the resulting brown goo into two round cake pans, and placing them in the oven. Easy. In fact, it was a little too easy. Something felt wrong.
I began tidying up the kitchen, wiping counters, washing utensils, and so on, when I thought about the cookies Karen had baked a couple nights ago. I thought that maybe I shouldn't have made cake while we still had cookies in the house. Too many accessible sweets. A cornucopia of delicious baked goods. A one-way ticket to chubbyville.
That's when it hit me. Tomorrow is my birthday! What the hell am I doing baking a cake?! I had even specifically requested an ice cream cake for my birthday. We will have too much cake! Too much cake!
As I began applying frosting to the obsolete cake, I thought about perhaps giving the thing to one of our neighbors. "Hi. I baked a cake because I forgot I was getting birthday cake tomorrow and would like you to have it." But as it turned out, Karen's pretty excited about the cake and wants a piece of it. So it looks like we'll just have too much cake for a while. Feel free to stop by and have a piece.