Let Them Eat Cake

Making cakes is an acquired taste. But when your child begs for a certain cake (like the Millennium Falcon from Star Wars), your better judgement exits the room and you say, "Sure!" You've just set the bar a little high, and not for this one birthday or even this one child. Every year until they reach 18, and maybe after that, each creation must outdo the last in its originality, composition, and "wow" factor. Not to mention that this labor of love will never be seen or played with for more than the one day like any other handmade item. It will be cut into pieces and shoveled into the mouths of sugar-frenzied kids mere moments after being appreciated as a work of art.

Last weekend I attempted another such feat, making a cake for my youngest's first birthday. I could have made a simple cake and stuck on a few plastic toys - after all, he won't remember the cake - but I have that bar to reach. I pulled out a Lightning McQueen cake pan (recycled from another birthday) and began to bake. With the party just hours away and my countertops strewn with icing bags, tips, and mixing bowls, I grabbed for my stash of icing dyes. Lo and behold, only three colors remained: black, yellow, and blue. How could I have overlooked this! If I had been the least bit prepared there would have been red, which was the main color of the cake. Lightning McQueen also had a Dinoco blue paint job, right?

After two hours of painstaking frosting, taking only one break to let my hand uncramp, I finished. The party was on, the cake attained its full glory lasting 30 seconds while we sang "Happy Birthday," and then it was gone.

The next birthday in December is already closing in, and Hogwarts Castle has been requested.