Monday, August 13, 2012


On Sunday, Paul celebrated his 30th birthday. He has been making fun of me for a year and a half about being in my thirties, so I'm glad that's over (until I turn forty, I suppose).

We didn't really do much to celebrate, mostly because I dropped the ball (sorry, sweetie!). Between friends leaving, in-laws visiting, a trip to Twillingate and thinking about/planning G's fourth birthday, I just didn't get around to planning something.

However, I made a cake. I really love cake decorating and I've been trying to get better at in the past few years. I made a castle for G's first birthday, a bunny for her third birthday and cake pops (which I would not do again, despite their trendiness) for M's first birthday.
I've never been all that interested in fondant, I find it pretty gross tasting, even though it looks cool, so I was VERY interested when someone on twitter mentioned marshmallow fondant.
It's super-easy to make and much more delicious then regular fondant.

I made a Superman cake:

The girls helped blow out the candles. The shirts were...mostly coincidence.

We each had a slice and that's when it happened.

M transformed into this:
via: hyperboleandahalf
If you haven't read Hyperbole-and-a-Half, you should. She has a hilarious story called "God of Cake" (seriously, go read it right now, she's the funniest thing on the whole internet).

M was desperate for a second piece of cake. She sat in her highchair and reached for more cake, so we took her out of her chair and put the cake in the kitchen. Paul and G moved to the living room and before I could clean off the table, M climbed up on a chair and started licking her sister's plate.
I put her back on the floor and she started to cry. "Cake!" she said, using her brand-new word skills. "Cake! Cake?"
She went into the kitchen and pointed up at the cake, just in case she thought I didn't understand. "DIS! DIS!"
I put the dome cover over the cake, hoping that would dissuade her. No such luck.
I know it's in there.
She did not calm down... pretty much until bedtime.

Day 2: Still cake.
Now it's the next day and she's still aware that there's cake in the house. G cares, but amazingly has patience to wait for an appropriate dessert time. M wanders around the house, randomly saying "Cake?"

*I kid you not, as I was writing this post, M came up to the computer, saw the photo of the cake and started yelling "Cake! Cake!"

1 comment:

  1. I'm the same way. Except I am supposedly a grownup (although not yet thirty) and no one is telling me I should eat all the cake. Lucy's birthday cake vanished suspiciously quickly.