The Way I Would Like My Birthday Cake to Look
E, nearly 5
25 July 2008
marker on paper
If I were to break down the morning “types” I have with my daughter into percentages, these are roughly how they would fall:
1. Loud, violent shaking of the gate at her door* somewhere around 6:20 a.m., and approximately halfway into my first 10 minute snooze of the 6:15 a.m. alarm, followed up with a desperate plea for release because she has to go to the bathroom now: 5%
2. Loud, violent shaking of my child in an attempt to awaken her at ten minutes until eight, approximately ten minutes after we should have put the oatmeal on the stove and poured the juice if we are to have a morning that requires no “I’ll race you to put your shoes on before the house alarm sounds its 45 second warning” statements: 70%
3. Loud noises of playful energy bursts from the third floor which I happily ignore as I take my shower and get ready on the second floor since she has not mentioned the need to relieve herself…yet: 20%
4. Loud noises of an unexplained source requiring immediate attention and frequently followed with stern words of disapproval: rarely, I’ll say 1% for our purposes here, thankfully, although this 1% usually leaves some lingering reminder like a dent in the floor or something in need of super glue…
5. The remaining 4%? Silent, stealthy movements that aren’t detectable below, but usually result in some sort of art work or paper construction of her highest creative level – she most certainly “peaks” in the morning hours. This 4% is my favorite. I love the surprise of walking upstairs expecting to find her asleep in bed, instead finding her perched on the edge of her chair with a floor full of cut paper scraps, thirteen yards of spent scotch tape, and a diorama of the dinosaur age sitting on the table in front of her. I know the feeling…sometimes you just want to wake up and get right to cutting and pasting.
This morning was a Category 5, and a lot of thought went into the picture she was finishing up as I arrived. The discussion on this topic really began the night before.
Her request for her birthday cake? To have something plastic on top. Why you might ask? Well, so she, the birthday girl, could remove said plastic item off the top of the cake while she is surrounded by her friends and family, and lick the residual icing off said plastic item before the cake is actually cut into edible pieces. And that, my friends, is the sign of a good birthday cake. Not the made from scratch four level cake with 65% organic ingredients, not the whipped up from scratch butter cream frosting made that very afternoon to maximize freshness and rich texture, not the hand decorated cookies that are set into the homemade frosting as charming decoration. Nope, the real deal is the plastic trinket that is perched on top of the cake that is the sole property of the lucky birthday girl.
Great cake moments of the past four birthdays flashed through my head in an instant…the circus banner cake that was made in a bakery from a hand drafted layout that I shopped around to at least six or seven bakeries before finding one that wouldn’t shoot the icing out of an airbrush. It was made in an 18″ round wedding cake pan, and all but the outer five inches was thrown away, the inner tube shaped cake remaining was cut into thirds, and then reversed and laid out to form a five foot long waving banner to which I added decorated letters spelling out happy first birthday to this little girl. Each letter was different – striped, plaid, dotted – and I loved that cake more than any other cake I had ever seen.
See, the fascination with objects on top of the icing started early – this was the cookie #1 that resided on her own personal cake. Egad, look at those cheeks. I’d like to take a big bite out of them right now, and the icing doesn’t help matters…
Her second birthday was a garden party and the bar was raised to a whole new level. Instead of hand drafting the cake design, I drew out plans for a homemade flower box that M put together and painted. Inside rested dozens of chocolate cupcakes with chocolate frosting and Oreo crumbles on top and flower cookie lollipops stuck around them forming another Happy Birthday message. The kids barely touched the cupcakes, but the flower pops were a roaring success. See? Plenty of stick licking to go around…
Next came three and with it a request for an ice cream party. Simple enough, but oh no – it wasn’t enough to just scoop ice cream out of a container, we actually made the containers and the kids shook their own cream and sugar and vanilla and rock salt to produce their birthday party treat. I have absolutely no qualms with this sort of child labor. I use it frequently, particularly at the holidays. And an ice cream party should have given us the free pass for any type of cake at all, but we actually made little cakes that looked like ice cream cones, and ice cream cookie treats to boot.
Number four was an outdoor swimming party in August and outdoor swimming party in August does not equal good cake experience. Ice cream cups were dolled out with substitute cake cookies in pink which were a great hit and didn’t turn into a big melty pile of chlorinated mush in the sunshine. But that buttercream frosting appeared later at the family party with some beach balls and inner tubes floating in its richness. Yum.
And this year, for the car party, we have little individual vintage car cakes made with a sour cream cake recipe that melts in your mouth, and enough candy doo-dads to keep the kids busy for half an hour pimping their ride before they devour it. So you can see that I was a bit taken aback by the request for something plastic on top of the cake. Has she not seen the theme – the common vein running through these parties through the years? So I took a deep breath and asked her if it had to be plastic? Does it have to be a character? Does it have to be licensed by Disney and come from the grocery store bakery aisle? She thought about it for a moment and then replied.
“No, Mom. One of your cookies on top will be just fine. Or even the candles – all five of them. I just want something to pull off the cake and lick.”
Relief coursed through my body. I can do that. No problem. Privileged licking, coming right up…
*yes, we still have a gate on her door, but it is at the top of a really long flight of stairs…