Fleeting Birthday Cakes
It was Old Man's birthday the other day. He turned old as dirt. He was old as rocks only a few years ago. And before that by a few years, he was old as boulders. So, his favorite birthday cake is carrot cake. Now, I suppose I could go to the local bakery and buy a nice carrot cake, but I had the time off, so I thought I would delight him with my culinary skills. I do not possess many skills needed in the kitchen, but I can make a mean carrot cake.
Having baked the cake, I skimped on dinner - I ordered delivery pizza. Old Man is married to Old Woman. I no longer want to put that much time into cooking a meal that will be eaten in ten minutes.
The carrot cake was impeccable. It was moist, fluffy, and smelled of spices and carrots. Old Man arrived home, and after the succulent odors accosted his nostrils, he praised his wife's culinary skills! And pronounced that he would eat the carrot cake this very minute to prove his elation over this most mouthwatering of birthday gifts.
It was difficult, but I persuaded him to wait for the carrot cake until a proper dinner could be enjoyed. Of course, he was excited about a proper dinner. He is a man, after all, and a 'proper dinner' to him meant 'all-you-can-eat' protein and carbs. But, the protein and carbs must be hand made by none other than moi! So, when he saw the pizza delivery box on the kitchen cabinet, he looked like a schoolboy who was just told he had detention for putting a frog in Suzie's lunch box. Old Man was seriously disappointed. He was looking for a dinner lovingly created by his devoted wife. My thought was, I created the da(oh, I almost forgot there are children reading this)rn cake, what is that? Slime pudding?
Old Man slinked to his chair in the den and waited for the pizza to be served. I was being paid back for ordering pizza delivery - Old Man decided he wanted to watch a movie before he ate a piece of cake. So, we closed the door on the kitchen and tuned in to the cable movie channel. It must have been a western that was showing because it had Old Man's full attention.
After John Wayne solved the problems of the Old West, I asked Old Man if he were ready for a piece of cake. We both went into the kitchen and saw the sight at the same time.
In the middle of the kitchen table, where the carrot cake was, stood our Yorkshire Terrier, face blithely buried in the center of the cake. When he heard the sound of the kitchen door opening, he looked, nose, snout and beard covered in cream cheese icing. I had to laugh in spite of myself. But that smothered giggle was followed by apprehension for the dog - I could see the steam coming from Old Man's ears.
I put my hand on Old Man's arm, hoping to reassure him that it was OK. I would bake another cake. But, Old Man was quicker than me, he was already across the kitchen. As fast as Old Man moved, the terrier moved even faster. We couldn't find him for 2 days. It was just as well. It gave me time to bake another cake and Old Man cooled down. He knows now to have his cake and eat it, before the dog gets it.
Having baked the cake, I skimped on dinner - I ordered delivery pizza. Old Man is married to Old Woman. I no longer want to put that much time into cooking a meal that will be eaten in ten minutes.
The carrot cake was impeccable. It was moist, fluffy, and smelled of spices and carrots. Old Man arrived home, and after the succulent odors accosted his nostrils, he praised his wife's culinary skills! And pronounced that he would eat the carrot cake this very minute to prove his elation over this most mouthwatering of birthday gifts.
It was difficult, but I persuaded him to wait for the carrot cake until a proper dinner could be enjoyed. Of course, he was excited about a proper dinner. He is a man, after all, and a 'proper dinner' to him meant 'all-you-can-eat' protein and carbs. But, the protein and carbs must be hand made by none other than moi! So, when he saw the pizza delivery box on the kitchen cabinet, he looked like a schoolboy who was just told he had detention for putting a frog in Suzie's lunch box. Old Man was seriously disappointed. He was looking for a dinner lovingly created by his devoted wife. My thought was, I created the da(oh, I almost forgot there are children reading this)rn cake, what is that? Slime pudding?
Old Man slinked to his chair in the den and waited for the pizza to be served. I was being paid back for ordering pizza delivery - Old Man decided he wanted to watch a movie before he ate a piece of cake. So, we closed the door on the kitchen and tuned in to the cable movie channel. It must have been a western that was showing because it had Old Man's full attention.
After John Wayne solved the problems of the Old West, I asked Old Man if he were ready for a piece of cake. We both went into the kitchen and saw the sight at the same time.
In the middle of the kitchen table, where the carrot cake was, stood our Yorkshire Terrier, face blithely buried in the center of the cake. When he heard the sound of the kitchen door opening, he looked, nose, snout and beard covered in cream cheese icing. I had to laugh in spite of myself. But that smothered giggle was followed by apprehension for the dog - I could see the steam coming from Old Man's ears.
I put my hand on Old Man's arm, hoping to reassure him that it was OK. I would bake another cake. But, Old Man was quicker than me, he was already across the kitchen. As fast as Old Man moved, the terrier moved even faster. We couldn't find him for 2 days. It was just as well. It gave me time to bake another cake and Old Man cooled down. He knows now to have his cake and eat it, before the dog gets it.
Ms. Carol, you are hilarious!! It sounds like something right off of Cheaper by the Dozen or something like that...haha!
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