Let’s talk about cake, Reader.
Turning 50 has had me on cake overload. I know, I thought I’d never type the words “cake” and “overload” together, either, but here we are.
To be fair, it started the month before birthday month, again we’re back to adding more ways the Spidey Bitey is trying to ruin birthday month.
During my surgery date, I requested a post-surgical cake to celebrate not getting an amputation or dying. Because I’m dramatic. So mah lovah brought me a cake, and after my surgery my daddio, his lady, My Mister and I ate cake in my hospital room.
My dad. Eating cake after my surgery. Because that’s how a Team Player works.
But that wasn’t the end of cake. Because others heard my cake cries and delivered, too.
HandyDan dropped off an Oreo cake at Chez Bang Bang. Because I’m vegan (not at all, but I pretend I am when eating Oreo’s).
(cake count: 2)
And then Joanne had a plan to treat my mouth to the famous Hough Bakery white cake as I had recently read a story about the person who resurrected this bakery, Archie, and I fell in love with the story so much and then I was mad I’d lived almost fiddy years and had never had a piece of this famous cake between my lips. Read that article and the story of Archie and tell me you don’t want to try that cake, Reader. Go ahead, click over and give it a read. Then come back. I’ll wait.
Done? You want cake now, don’t you.
Of course you do.
How had I never had that cake was the question I asked myself and Joanne.
So Joanne waved her magic wand (cellphone) and had a giant white Hough Bakery cake created to encourage my foot to get well.
It. Was. Beautiful. And. Huge.
And. I was sick. Too sick to eat cake.
I mean, to pass up that cake – and not even whisk a finger around the edge – you know that was a special kind of queasy tummy.
Turns out antibiotics are not cake-friendly.
So Joanne said she’d take the cake home and freeze it and Trixie was happy that she would enjoy this cake, just not that day, and the world seemed right again.
(cake count: 3)
Then Trixie started feeling better and
loudly reminded gently inquired, “Hey! Where’s my Get Well Cake??”
And she found out the ugly truth. Joanne had sort of squished the cake while trying to freeze it, so while it was already a mess on one side she cut a big piece out to try it herself, and then took it to work because waste not, want not. And so Trixie’s non-co-workers ate her Get Well cake, and didn’t even sing the Get Well song.
Joanne did let me know that it didn’t live up to the hype. So that was the end of the Vision Quest to try the Archie cake.
Life’s too short to eat Meh cake.
Alrightie, Reader. This post is sooooo yuuuuugeee (how yuuuuugeeee is it, the crowd chanted) that I need to pull a TBC (to be continued)……
But oh, there’s more. Much more. Stay tuned. I’ll try to wrap this up quickly and not leave you clamoring for the titillating end for too long. Because I care about you, Reader. And if you wanna know how much, stop over. I’ll feed you cake.
2 thoughts on “Frosted”
This is like a home run frozen in mid air, but in this case “cake frozen in mid air!” Can’t wait to read the rest of the story! So Paul Harvey’s ghost can wisper “and know you know the rest of the story!”
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