Tomorrow we are having the celebration of Charlie's 15th birthday, since it falls on Monday. His godfather is coming over as well as the rest of my family and Rick's dad. Last year I actuallly had dinner for them all. This year I don't have the energy. We're having a dessert party. Charlie made his own cake. I supervised. (Hey, he WANTED to, okay?) I have decided to take the cheater's way out. Instead of decorating it, I made a HUGE sheet cake, and bought a ton of sprinkles and colored sugars and crystals and tubes of gel in lots of colors, and we're going to mark squares on the cake, and each person is going to decorate one square. Then we'll take a picture before we do the candle thing. So all I have to do is smear icing on it and I'm done my part!
You get creative like that when you're old and tired. Creativity happens when you start thinking, "How can I shove some of this work off on someone else?" That's how Charlie ended up making the cake. It went something like this:
"Hey, Charlie, y'know how you said you wanted to own your own restaurant when you grow up?"
"Yeah...."
"You know, you'll have to know how to make desserts."
"Yeah...."
"Wanna start by learning how to bake a cake?"
"Yeah!"
So I told him what equipment to get out, and supervised him mixing up the first box. (Yes, we used box mixes--so SUE me!!) Then I went and browsed CraigsList while he was mixing up the other two boxes (told ya it was HUGE sheet cake!). Well, I couldn't stand there and watch him after he'd already mixed up the first box, could I? He might get the idea I didn't trust him to do it right, or something. That's just what we need--an almost 15-year-old China boy with a complex.
He did just fine, got it in the oven. I explained how important it was not to let the oven door bang when checking the cake or make any loud noises, how a cake can fall. He was very good about it, remembered to come up and check on the cake at the right time, took it out of the oven very carefully and set it on the counter. Then, as we were leaving the house to go run errands, he slammed the door shut. Aiyeeeeeeee....
Lucky boy, it didn't fall. We will still be having our dessert party tomorrow night.
So that's my recipe for how to make a birthday cake--buy the ingredients, and con the birthday boy into doing it. I think that officially qualifies me as a "bad mother" now, not even making my own son's birthday cake. My only defense is that at least I made sure he had one.
Ahh, let 'em eat cake.
You get creative like that when you're old and tired. Creativity happens when you start thinking, "How can I shove some of this work off on someone else?" That's how Charlie ended up making the cake. It went something like this:
"Hey, Charlie, y'know how you said you wanted to own your own restaurant when you grow up?"
"Yeah...."
"You know, you'll have to know how to make desserts."
"Yeah...."
"Wanna start by learning how to bake a cake?"
"Yeah!"
So I told him what equipment to get out, and supervised him mixing up the first box. (Yes, we used box mixes--so SUE me!!) Then I went and browsed CraigsList while he was mixing up the other two boxes (told ya it was HUGE sheet cake!). Well, I couldn't stand there and watch him after he'd already mixed up the first box, could I? He might get the idea I didn't trust him to do it right, or something. That's just what we need--an almost 15-year-old China boy with a complex.
He did just fine, got it in the oven. I explained how important it was not to let the oven door bang when checking the cake or make any loud noises, how a cake can fall. He was very good about it, remembered to come up and check on the cake at the right time, took it out of the oven very carefully and set it on the counter. Then, as we were leaving the house to go run errands, he slammed the door shut. Aiyeeeeeeee....
Lucky boy, it didn't fall. We will still be having our dessert party tomorrow night.
So that's my recipe for how to make a birthday cake--buy the ingredients, and con the birthday boy into doing it. I think that officially qualifies me as a "bad mother" now, not even making my own son's birthday cake. My only defense is that at least I made sure he had one.
Ahh, let 'em eat cake.
