Drink The Cake And Call It A Day. Or Your Life.

I believe strongly in cake. Birthday cakes. Valentine’s Day cakes. Graduation cakes. Cakes to say hello. Cakes to say good-bye. I Heart Cakes cakes.

Why yes that IS the UVa Rotunda.
I baked these myself. Which is why I bought his cake this year.
E's Birthday Cake
Doubles as a nap mat

So not surprising that:

  1. I would buy a cake much too big for E’s birthday.
  2. We would enjoy eating it for weeks.
  3. We would get another cake for my birthday.
  4. I’m eating that right now.

After one said eating opportunity, E chooses to wash his cake hands in his glass of water.

E: Mama can I drink it?

Me: What?

Since I could not answer quick enough in my sugar-induced coma, he quenches his thirst with a cup full of cake before I’ve decided whether this is weird. (I’m still up in the air about it. Although I’m still eating cake so my understanding of life is all soft and confectionery.)

E: Oh, it tastes like cream.

Me: Hmmm… I didn’t know that.

E: Where is this going? Is it going to my penis?

My mouth stays silent while my eyes start yelling: OMG, did he really say that? Am I going to have to give more of THE TALK? Are penises all we are ever going to discuss for the next ten years?

E: Or is it going to my poop-contestant?

Which is a fancy way of saying intestine. Or a brilliant idea of how my family can find fame and fortune.

Because how much would we rock The Price Is Poop? Or the 10,000 Farts Pyramid where you could only use bodily functions as clues?  Or if the Supermarket Sweep actually had contestants race around a grocery store trying to find a bathroom with a toddler and a preschooler and a stomach virus. Bonus points for not flashing your opponents and for having wipes.

Now that last one sounds impossible. You probably win cake in a cup. Or a year supply of awesome. Or Facebook.  Or an iPhone 4 that doesn’t hang up on your friends right when you’re being hilarious.

Good luck my fellow poop contestants.  And Happy Cake Day.

Alex Iwashyna

Alex Iwashyna went from a B.A. in philosophy to an M.D. to a SAHM, poet and writer by 30. She spends most of her writing time on LateEnough.com, a humor blog (except when it's serious) about her husband fighting zombies, awkward attempts at friendship, and dancing like everyone is watching. She also has a soft spot for culture, politics, and rude Southern people who offend her Yankee sensibilities. She parents 2 elementary-aged children, 1 foster baby, 3 cats, and 1 puppy, who are all Southern but not rude. Yet.

20 thoughts to “Drink The Cake And Call It A Day. Or Your Life.”

  1. Getting your blog emailed to me is the best thing I’ve ever done. Ok, so maybe not ever, but definitely the best thing this whole month.

    And a quick cake story for ya! about a week before my birthday my mom and I would go to this bakery and pick out my birthday cake (every year I can remember growing up – even into high school). Well, as I got older I could never find a cake I liked and it felt more and more uncool. PLus, a week before my b-day (Jan. 6) the bakery was usually always closed for New Year’s and it just became a pain in the rear trying to get there. Anyway, one year I remember saying “just never mind. Forget it. I don’t want a birthday cake.” And my mom totally freaked out and I remember her yelling, “YOU HAVE TO HAVE A CAKE!” Thought I’d share.

  2. Nah, you’re not going to have to talk about penises for the rest of his childhood. In a few years, he and his penis will suddenly become very PRIVATE. Which might not make you as happy as you think.

  3. “poop contestant” I love it! I’m also pretty sure I have some mad skills when it comes to all bathroom related items and children. I’m looking forward to signing up for you show.

  4. I totally needed a good laugh. And to talk about cake. And poop. Goodness, I need a life. Or cake.

    BTW, cake is my favorite food group. My second favorite is orange – there are many, many yummy orange colored foods. Really, they should rearrange the food pyramid. Soon.

  5. Oh, this is so familiar. We talk about poop all day long. Or pee. And I, too, made the mistake? of telling H that when you eat, the food goes down to the tummy and then gets turned to poo poo and then comes out the hiney. He is now obsessed with the “coming out the hiney” part.

  6. My dear, first I will answer your question. Yes, you are going to talk about penises for the next ten years, except it’s not going to STOP after that. It keeps going.

    Also on the conversational menu: poop, pee, vomit, and farts. Especially the farts.

    My family challenges your family to a round of The 10,000 Farts Pyramid. I suggest you forfeit immediately as I have THREE sons, all with a great deal of practice in bodily-functions-as-humor, plus I have Abbie, whose wit is so quick and dry that everyone is always three jokes behind her. And my ace in the hole? Brian is pretty much still a penis-butt-fart-poop joke kind of a guy. Like a 12 year old boy, but with more practice.

    Poop contestant. That killed me!

  7. Mmmm…cake.
    I heart cake. I heart cake lots.
    My favorite is Tuesday cake. Followed closely by Thursday, Monday, Wendesday, Sunday, Friday, and Saturday cake.

    And the cake water? I would have fought him for it.
    You sitting there, missing your opportunity to nab the cake water was a rookie move, my friend.


  8. I get the drinking glass hand-wash all the time around here, followed immediately by that same question: “Can I drink it?”
    And now I want some cake of my own.

  9. Talked to a friend today who makes cakes. She was talking about a recent cake order. A poop cake! I remembered reading this post and it made me think about you. Hopefully, you’ll take that as a compliment! Maybe you could order one to enjoy during this double “S time” week.

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