More Cake Please
We did a Very Bad Thing at work this week. We ate someone's birthday cake without her.
The tradition is that the birthday person gets a cake of her choice. This time the choice was the shortcake with strawberries between the layers and whipped cream for icing. I was closing, so I stoppped at the supermarket on the way to work and picked the cake up.
Missed the birthday girl by about 20 minutes; she'd had to leave early. We looked at the cake. We put the cake in the refrigerator to keep it fresh. Someone suggested calling her for permission to start the cake without her. I vetoed that. When you have to leave early for a personal reason, you shouldn't have to get a call asking if your birthday cake can be eaten without you.
Lots of sadness. Lots of inability to concentrate because there was a cake in the stockroom. Lots of pondering how to get around the evil of eating the cake without the birthday person present to eat the first piece. (Another tradition: you are challenged to eat all four corners of a cake with icing on your birthday.) Finally, I made an executive decision: we're eating the cake. Let's just say that we put that cake out of its misery quickly. I believe that a token morsel was left to represent the fact that we'd even gotten a cake.
Last night, at our store meeting, we tried to make it up to her with another cake. This time, I thought, I have this under control. Not the loaf-sized version this time, but the large, round, actual cake-sized cake. Plenty for leftovers. Enough for her to take some home for herself and her family to enjoy. I ordered the birthday recipient to close her eyes, then we all sang "Happy Birthday" as I presented the new cake to her.
We polished that sucker off in about five minutes. No leftovers. Someone who shall go unnamed even licked the whipped cream and strawberry filling off of the cellophane wrap that held the layers together during transport. And no, it wasn't me.
Cake makes everything so much better.
The tradition is that the birthday person gets a cake of her choice. This time the choice was the shortcake with strawberries between the layers and whipped cream for icing. I was closing, so I stoppped at the supermarket on the way to work and picked the cake up.
Missed the birthday girl by about 20 minutes; she'd had to leave early. We looked at the cake. We put the cake in the refrigerator to keep it fresh. Someone suggested calling her for permission to start the cake without her. I vetoed that. When you have to leave early for a personal reason, you shouldn't have to get a call asking if your birthday cake can be eaten without you.
Lots of sadness. Lots of inability to concentrate because there was a cake in the stockroom. Lots of pondering how to get around the evil of eating the cake without the birthday person present to eat the first piece. (Another tradition: you are challenged to eat all four corners of a cake with icing on your birthday.) Finally, I made an executive decision: we're eating the cake. Let's just say that we put that cake out of its misery quickly. I believe that a token morsel was left to represent the fact that we'd even gotten a cake.
Last night, at our store meeting, we tried to make it up to her with another cake. This time, I thought, I have this under control. Not the loaf-sized version this time, but the large, round, actual cake-sized cake. Plenty for leftovers. Enough for her to take some home for herself and her family to enjoy. I ordered the birthday recipient to close her eyes, then we all sang "Happy Birthday" as I presented the new cake to her.
We polished that sucker off in about five minutes. No leftovers. Someone who shall go unnamed even licked the whipped cream and strawberry filling off of the cellophane wrap that held the layers together during transport. And no, it wasn't me.
Cake makes everything so much better.
Comments
Thanks for the HILARIOUS cake post. It's been circulated and much enjoyed at the office.
Thanks too in general for your blog, which is always interesting and well-written.