Restless Natives Made Me Do It...

Yep. That's what I said. Restless natives. I made another one (not a restless native, a cake). The restless natives made me make another cake. Let me back track a bit....

Remember last Sunday when I made that yellow cake with fluffy white frosting for Valentine's Day? You know, the one that haunted me the next morning (and the morning after that, and so on...). Well, that cake is no longer with us. We ate it up. It lasted until Thursday. I thought that was pretty good, actually. My husband, on the other hand, didn't think so. You see, he left on a business trip to Mexico City on Tuesday morning. In my defense, I think this is a good time to mention that at that point, The Cake was more than halfway gone.

Now, the boy and I did finish the cake on Thursday night. We actually savored it. Chose our timing of cake eating wisely. By the time Friday night rolled around and R returned...no more cake. He managed to give the boy and I a hug and kiss hello before looking in the fridge. I thought perhaps he was hungry, hadn't had dinner, or wanted a beer to unwind after his busy, meeting-packed trip, but no...

R: "Hey, where's the cake?" (asked in a slightly raised voice)

The boy and I exchange glances.

Me: "Well, we finished it last night." (sweet, innocent voice used here). Then in self-defense of his silly thought that a cake would last 6 full days..."What did you think this was, a time warp? Cake doesn't last THAT long."

Nervous laughter exchanged between the boy and I.

Crickets chirp.

R: "What? You couldn't save me a piece?"

So now I started to feel a little guilty. Just a little, but it subsided very quickly. The awkward moment passed and the rest of the evening went smoothly.

Fast forward to this morning.

R: "When do you think you'll make another one of those cakes? You know the one that you guys ate without saving me a piece?"

Sheesh. Talk about holding a grudge. After all, he had several slices of that cake.

Me: Oh, I don't know. I have a lot to do today.

R: "Well, the natives are getting restless."

The boy: "Yeah Mom, the natives are getting restless." (the little Benedict Arnold)

So there you have it, friends. How I was talked into making another of these evil cakes. I couldn't have my natives feeling restless, could I...? Now I'm woefully behind on everything else, but at least there will be no more mind games/guilt trips around here...for now anyway.

Thank you for visiting, darlings. Wish you could stop in for a slice of cake....xo