Tick tock.

Fall is the season of birthdays around here. Well, for 3 of us. I'm not sure how we got Harry so wrong, but  there you have it. I may have forgotten certain days in the past, but let's not talk about that now. (It's not my fault! The baby took my brain!) Let's talk about cake, because of those of you who really know me, know I'm always on the look out for a good excuse to make cake. It's like that big sign of reasons to buy custard when you walk into Kopp's. Except I like Dairy Queen better than custard. Which I know is crazy talk, but anyway...

A few months ago, Suzy declared (as only she can do) that this year there would be a butterfly cake. A friend and I joked that this actually meant a butterfly flavored cake, made with ground up butterflies and forgetting that Harry was still an 8 year old boy, instantly able to gross out anyone who started a silly conversation. But, seriously, does she mean a butterfly shaped cake? A cake with butterflies stuck on it?  (Yuck.) A mystical flavor called butterfly that only exists in her tiny head? (Look, I know it's not tiny. But she's a girl. We shouldn't talk about it like we did (do?) with Harry.) And I'm getting smarter, because I don't ask her these things. No. That just gets you signed up for ridiculous things like cake decorating classes and making skirts in the middle of the night. There's one benefit to being in one's mid-thirties. (Shut. Up. 37 is totally mid-thirties.)

But, I thought that we should at least address flavor. I so want to make an apple cake, but I know I should let her pick. So, this morning on our walk to apple school, asked what flavor cake she wanted to underneath all of the butterflies. Chocolate? Vanilla? Apple? 

Her response? "Moooooooooooooooooooom, it should be pink!"

Of course it should. What was I thinking? It'll probably be slightly out of focus and I'm sure the 'mess fairy' will visit the kitchen, too.