Butterfingers

You know how in Emperor's New Groove, the first thing you see is a llama in the rain?  Well, here's this story's llama-in-the-rain:

And just like Kuzko's story had a beginning, so did this one.

It was kind of a princess-and-the-pea day where despite the number of mattresses I stacked, I could still feel the pea.  And sadly for Kirk, it seemed that he'd unintentionally placed every pea I'd felt.  The poor guy spent all morning as Head Pea Exterminator and did so with little complaint.  As such, I think he was more than eager to run an errand while I started baking the cake for Alex's birthday party.  This cake, while easy to frost, required the careful placement of 7 different colors of batter - which I managed to do while letting Adam and Alex help me... a feat in and of itself.  I finished the final layer of batter just as Kirk walked in the door.  I put the cake in to bake for 45 minutes and found that with one less major hurdle to jump that day, my mood was much improved.  In fact, I couldn't feel a single pea!

I enjoyed making the pretzel ladder and then headed off for a 23 minute bath, knowing I'd want to be out when the cake was done.  Out with 2 minutes to spare, I entered the kitchen, ready to tackle the next steps.  I leveled the cake's dome.  I pondered how to flip it onto the cake plate.  I gratefully accepted Kirk's offer of help.  We discussed our concerns that it might stick to the pan, and I promised not to freak out if it did.

And Kirk flipped the cake.

The cake pan slid on the plate surface and in mere seconds, cake was everywhere.

As promised, I did not freak out.  At least not on the surface.

My brave Head Pea Exterminator dove into DCM (damage control mode) and asked if I was okay.  I smiled and laughed a strained laugh and replied, "Yeah.  But I'm just gonna... sit... on the floor over here for a minute."  And I lowered myself to the floor, leaned my back on the counter, and tried to breathe.

3:00.

Breath.

Birthday party at 6:00.

Breath.


A cake that takes 45 minutes just. to. bake. not to mention the time it takes to color and carefully pour the batter.

Breath.


Do-able.  Kirk rushed to the store for a new cake mix, and I re-donned (yep, it's a word now) my apron.  And my faithful Head Pea Exterminator brought me a peace offering, even though it really wasn't his fault.

Together, we mixed, colored, greased, poured, laughed, joked, and got the darn cake ready.  He made the frosting and dinner.  I frosted, decorated, and teased him endlessly about having thrown the cake on the floor.

Dinner, dishes, and cake were all done with multiple minutes to spare, and I'd say our Leprachaun Trap was well worth the effort!

Still, Kirk will never live down "that time when you threw the cake on the floor..."