My hubby walked into the kitchen to find me splattered in chocolate, hair dusted with powdered sugar, spatulas, cake pans, and mixing bowls piled in the sink, and a befuddled look on my face as I pondered what to do with my lopsided, 2-toned cake.
“Let’s practice,” he said. “Say it with me….”
I didn’t have to ask. I knew what he was getting at.
I sighed, and said it along with him.
But in truth, I was having fun. I was asked to bake strawberry cupcakes, chocolate cupcakes, and a half vanilla and half chocolate cake. Seemed easy enough. And besides, Mario’s birthday is on Thursday, and she wanted strawberry cupcakes for her and her friends too.
There were obstacles of course. Like having to wait for my only day off.
And when that day arrived, I had to wait for our new kitchen floors to be installed.
Finally, I was able to make the cakes. Things were rolling along quite smoothly, until the stacking of the chocolate cakes. I learned a little too late that I should have taken the time to level the cakes first. But in my usual plow ahead fashion, I stacked and iced them, and took a step back to eye my creation, slightly off kilter. (The CAKES, not me. Okay maybe me too.)
It’ll be alright , I thought. I’ll just fill any inside space with icing. Who wouldn’t want that?
But then the vanilla side stacked just perfectly, making the chocolate side look even more like the leaning tower of Pisa.
So I hemmed and I hawed and I deliberated, and that’s when hubby came in. He offered no help.
I tried propping the chocolate side up to no avail. I debated whether or not I should bake another cake and stuff it underneath, but in the end I decided to fake it, and stuffed some leftover vanilla cake underneath.
I’ll tell her of course, and if it bothers her, she won’t ask again. Fine. By. Me.
But from this angle……
Yeah. Perhaps it’s time to start saying NO.’