Tag: cake

This week, I celebrated another birthday. Perhaps celebrated is too strong of a term as the truth is closer to I “tolerated” another birthday.

I turned 54 on Monday. This isn’t a milestone by any means. Nobody thinks of 54 as a goal or accomplishment. Nobody is going to go skydiving at 54 to prove they’re still young, or that they still “got it” (whatever “it” is). It is simply another annual marker on the slow journey to acknowledgement of our own mortality.

As a side note, I have no plans to go skydiving at any age. I don’t consider myself a daredevil. I get plenty of excitement in my life just leaving the house and standing 5 feet away from a total stranger who decided not to wear a mask that day.

Like any birthday of no particular note, it went about the way you would expect. For example: I woke up to a surprise birthday breakfast. When I got out of bed, my wife kissed me, wished me happy birthday then drove away to go to work. Both girls were still in bed and didn’t stir until sometime around noon.

No breakfast.

Surprise!

That was alright, though. I hadn’t really expected anything. The plan was to enjoy a really nice dinner that evening anyway. We had even ordered a shipment of my favorite sparkling wine the week before so I could have a glass on my birthday.

Instead of a case of wine on my birthday, I got an email stating the weather was too hot, so the winery was postponing the delivery until the weather cooled down. I’m guessing that means sometime in October. Hopefully, it will arrive in time to celebrate Halloween.

Damned global warming.

Not everything went wrong that day, of course. In fact, most of the day was quite pleasant. My wife gave me a very nice set of wine glasses and tumblers as a gift. I think it was her passive-aggressive way of saying “You’ve been drinking an awful lot lately and I figured if you’re going to kill your liver you should at least do it with a clean glass.”

She’s very thoughtful that way.

Dinner was take-out from my favorite Chinese restaurant. I even got to pick two of the items we ordered so it was a particular treat this time. Usually, I just accept what arrives and consider myself fortunate that I’m allowed to pick through the scraps after everyone else has filled their plates. I’m like the runtiest lion cub waiting for everyone else in the pride to finish mauling the wildebeest. I know my place in the pecking order.

After dinner came an amazing chocolate cake. I don’t usually throw plugs into this blog, but the cake came from Joyfully Baking and Catering and they did an incredible job. I would recommend this place (and this cake) to anyone.

If it bothers you that I just put a commercial in the middle of my weekly rant, remember that you’re reading this for free. If you want a commercial-free blog, I would be happy to discuss a small monthly fee to make that happen.

And now back to our regularly scheduled program.

Before I was allowed to cut the cake, my wife lit candles and the whole family sang happy birthday (mostly) non-sarcastically. There were only five candles on the cake instead of 54, but that was for several good reasons.

One) 54 candles would generate an awful lot of heat and probably set off the smoke detector and fire sprinklers.

Two) The number 5, despite my advance physical age, more accurately depicts my current emotional and mental status.

And Three) There were only five candles in the junk drawer, and nobody had bothered to think about buying candles the last time we were at the store.

I blew out the candles, cut myself a ridiculously large piece of cake, then proceeded to push it down my throat despite the fact that I was still full from eating too much dinner. When I was finished with my cake, I waddled over to the couch and collapsed into the cushions, feeling like an overly-stuffed reject from Build-a-Bear.

The remainder of the evening was spent dozing in and out of a food coma while the kids fought over who should have control of the TV remote. I don’t recall the final outcome of the struggle, but I have some vague memories of subtitles on the television screen and listening to a foreign language that was probably Korean. If you are a regular reader, that last part should be no surprise to you.

All things considered, it was a good day. I can certainly think of worse ways to spend my birthday.

And the best part is now that it’s over, I have an entire year before I have to do it all over again.

That, and there is a ton of leftover chocolate cake in the refrigerator.

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Last weekend, I celebrated yet another birthday. On Saturday, I turned WTF years old.

It would be nice if people reached a certain age and birthdays just stopped happening, but unfortunately that’s not how the process works. You get a new one every year whether you want it or not.

I started my special day by waking up before anyone else in the house had started moving. Ordinarily in these circumstances, I would immediately begin making as much noise as possible to wake up the kids. They have an annoying habit of sleeping in until noon if left alone and I get a great deal of pleasure out of making their lives miserable. This day was different, however. I figured a quiet house was just what I needed.

Breakfast was a birthday bowl of cold cereal. A birthday bowl of cereal is like a normal bowl of cereal except there are usually a few more tears in it. I debated putting a candle in the bowl to make it more festive, but I’m pretty sure a candle won’t light after it has been submerged in milk. To add to the air of desperation, I had to eat my breakfast with an oversized serving spoon because no one had bothered to do any dishes that week. That’s okay, though. I managed just fine since I have a big mouth. I know I have a big mouth because people have been telling me that my entire life.

Things did pick up in the afternoon. As a gift to me, my family took me to a movie and a restaurant for dinner. I got to choose the movie, and I got to pick my favorite restaurant. As an added bonus, I also got to pay for everything.

Happy birthday to me!

While we were at the theater, I bought some popcorn. I always have popcorn when I see a movie. It’s just my thing. Usually when my wife and I get popcorn we argue over whether or not to put butter on it. I prefer it dry, since I don’t like the plasticky burnt taste of the fake butter. I also hate how greasy it makes my fingers. My wife loves the stuff for some unknowable reason and insists that it be used to ruin an otherwise perfectly good tub of popcorn.

We usually argue in line for a few minutes and when we get to the front counter, she tells the kid working the snack bar to add the butter. This was my birthday, though. So, on this day when we got to the kid behind the counter … she told him to add butter.

Then I paid for the snacks.

Happy birthday to me!

I enjoyed the movie, and dinner afterwards was pleasant. I swore the kids to secrecy about my birthday. I didn’t want them telling the waiter just so they could watch dad squirm in his chair as the restaurant staff sang an offkey version of a birthday song while holding a melting blob of ice cream with a candle in it. I enjoy a free dessert as much as the next guy, but I don’t care to be the center of attention in a circus like that.

So, while we were eating, I told the waiter that it was EM2’s birthday.

After dinner, we headed home for a quiet evening. A little late-night television, a glass of wine, and two kids laughing and arguing while they watched videos on their phones.

And there was cake.

Lest anyone think we forgot the most important part of any birthday celebration, my wife baked me a lovely, homemade, chocolate birthday cake. She even managed to find a pink box to put it in and a sticker with a barcode to put on the side of the box. She always goes the extra mile because she loves me so much.

My wife covered every square inch of the cake’s surface with candles, then applied a blowtorch to it for three minutes to get them all lit. Okay, that part’s a lie. It’s just my attempt at an old age joke. The reality, though simpler, was actually much more depressing.

My wife rummaged in the junk drawer, located a single candle at the bottom of the clutter, and stuck it in the cake. The family sang Happy Birthday to me, hurrying to get through it before they completely lost interest in what they were doing. Somehow my daughters managed to get through the song without ever once looking up from their cellphones. Maybe they just forgot the words and had to read them on their screens.

After fourteen or fifteen attempts, along with a five-minute rest break when I got dizzy and started to hyperventilate, I blew out the candle. (Yup. Another old age joke.)

The kids both grabbed a piece of cake and disappeared upstairs to watch a Korean soap opera. My wife took two bites of her cake, set it on the counter and started answering work e-mails on her cellphone. I got to work cleaning up the mess in the kitchen.

Ah, yes. I can’t wait to do it all again next year.

Happy birthday to me!

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Enjoying Deep Dark Thoughts? Follow me on Facebook so you don’t miss a post. Just go to my page and click the “Like” button to receive updates on my blog and other projects.

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