Happy Birthday, luv!
Just so you know, there have been too many instances where I’ve come close to destroying your birthday cake today.
As I was driving back from the bakery, the cake on the front passenger seat, I had to slam on my brakes since some asshole cut me off while trying to get to Walgreen’s. I guess I can’t be too upset, because when you need your meds, you need your meds. Anyway, the cake box slammed into the dashboard and the box crumpled. The cake was fine, but I did have to eat some (a lot) of frosting off the box.
As I was carrying the baby (she refuses to walk when I’ve got five other things to carry, lazy-ass) and the cake at the same time, a lizard jumped on my foot. I know these lizards are small, but they’re like tiny dinosaurs and they feel weird on my skin. Isn’t there some type of mini Jurassic Park for these critters? I almost dropped the baby, but worse the cake almost toppled from my hand to the driveway. I don’t think anyone wants to eat cake off the driveway. If I had to, I would eat the cake off the ground. If I had to.
Then I put the cake on the counter for a second to make some room in the fridge. I didn’t realize the baby, while in her highchair, had opened the box and stuck her chubby hand on the side of the cake. So that explains the huge smear of frosting on the side that I tried to fix with the spatula. Watching Cupcake Wars doesn’t prepare you for this shit.
Anyway, you get better with age, just like a fine wine or cheese, which is sometimes mold, so… I don’t know exactly where I was going with that.
I’m sorry you’re stuck with me. Forever.