I was awake for less than 10 minutes this morning before I devoured a piece of cake. I didn’t even use a fork for the first two or three bites. I was shoveling frosting down my throat with my hand, pausing only to peak around the corner. What the hell is wrong with you? If you are going to eat your daughter’s cake the least you could do is use a utensil. . I finished the rest with a plastic spork left over from one of the many take out orders. I will never forget the first time I introduced my daughter to a spork. She lost her mind! “It’s a fork AND a spoon?” Yep. You can take a minute to process that one. She proceeded to give any and every person she came in contact with the Kevin Trudeau pitch minus the misleading facts and orange jumpsuit. (Too soon?) I am shocked that a guy convicted of fraud earlier in his career didn’t have the cure to weight loss, disease or addiction.
My daughter would demonstrate how the spork worked. Honestly, that Shamwow guy better watch his back. She is good. I wanted to buy an excessive amount of sporks after listening to her infomercial.
I scraped the last bit of frosting off the box and dropped my spork. What have you done? My daughter was going to be pissed. I bought the cake for her surprise party yesterday. Was it her birthday? No. A Did she win something? Nope. She organized a surprise party so that she could eat cake. She made a cute announcement and invited my mother. I humored her and played along.
Panic set in. Maybe I could get a new cake before she noticed? You are afraid of a 4-year-old? No! Yes. Hell no! I just don’t want to listen to her whine, but she is going to have to deal. I wanted a piece of cake and I ate it, damn it! It’s gone. The end, right?
I was vacuuming the living room rug when I heard her shriek. “Who ate all my cake?” My heart was racing. I didn’t answer. She ran into the room and started tugging on my leg. “Mom, did you eat my cake?” I rule this house. I will tell her what happened. I took a deep breath and said, “Maybe it was Dad.”