Happy Birthday to Me!

There's only one thing that the Hubby can possibly do to make my birthday weekend even better than it's been. So far, it's been almost perfect. Lots of pampering, birthday wishes from my favourite peeps, and absolutely no cooking.

Birthday flowers

BUT for absolute perfection, he could have baked me a birthday cake. The last and only time he baked me a birthday cake, or any cake for that matter, was when he asked me to marry him so many years ago. I think he instinctively knew it would seal the deal. He baked a chocolate cake in a tube pan. He iced it in chocolate icing. However, the night before my birthday my in-laws came over and I insisted, over the Hubby's protestations, that they taste his creation and we all had a piece. The next day, on my actual birthday, he made me a delicious dinner. Then came the cake. Two-thirds of a chocolate cake, covered in chocolate icing, ablaze with candles. He proudly places the cake in front of me. I make a wish and blow out the candles. Dimly, through the smoke, through the many candles dotting the cake, in chocolate writing on the chocolate icing on the chocolate cake, I think I can make out some squiggles. I squint. As the smoke clears, the words in shorthand gradually become a little clearer. WILL U MARY ME.

Baking = Feelings!

There was definitely love in that cake but also something else. I could barely make it out through the smoke and the tone on tone writing but I think there might have been...ambivalence?!


Anyway, I chose to ignore the feelings in the baking that one time. And IF he baked me a cake today I think it would look much different. But on that day so many years ago...luckily I had good eyesight!