Sunday, January 3, 2010
Just call me June
I am 35 years old and today I baked my first cake...from scratch. Scratch!!! No Betty Crocker for this gal- just some flour, eggs, vanilla, milk and sugar. Homemade frosting too-of the chocolate variety. Do I rock or what? Don't say what. Do-not.
Okay, so I did not actually plan on making a home-baked cake, but it happened. How? Guilt. Simple guilt. My husband turned 36 yesterday, and we celebrated in our usual fashion-we hired a sitter and hit the town sans kiddos. Cocktails anyone? But as David and I were preparing for our much anticipated evening out, Zachary asked innocently... why are you guys leaving us? We explained that we were going out for grown up time to celebrate Daddy's birthday. Zachary responded that he wanted to celebrate Daddy's birthday too. We back-peddled and told him that we had already in fact had daddy's special day because we went on a family hike. Zachary simply said "But we didn't even have cake."'
Golden layer cake with chocolate butter cream frosting. Zack helped stir and pour and it was a great mommy-son bonding moment. The kicker-it didn't taste half bad. Pretty tasty. Okay, so it cost twice as much as a mix cake, and took three times as long to make, but I am now one step closer to fufilling my dream of being an all-star stay-at-home-mommy. Just call me June Cleaver.