After lunch, we returned home for cake and gifts. Thing is, when you become a teenager, the entire landscape of a birthday party starts to change. Instead of brightly wrapped presents, balloons, or kiddie cakes, you end up with grown up presents that tend to be smaller and more sophisticated. There are cards with money. The cake doesn't usually look like a Rainbow Brite barfed on the table. Everything is more grown up. Truth be told, it makes me a bit sad. But, on the other hand, it's interesting and a little bit heartwarming to see him turning into a man. Yes, folks. He's gonna be a man sooner or later. Be still my little pea-pickin' heart.
See that? Wads of carefully folded cash and a case of his favorite Diet Dr. Pepper. I'm not sure he could have been any happier than right at that very moment. Getting to be the big guy that gets to go to the store and buy whatever his little heart desires? TOTALLY RAD. And doing all that after he gets to drink one of HIS sodas? You know, the ones that he doesn't have to share with his brother or sisters? YES!!! *fist bump*
And in case anyone was wondering what kind of cake would be had, it was a Dr. Pepper cake. I experimented with the innards, putting Dr. Pepper in place of the liquid for both the cake and the buttercream. It was tasty, but you couldn't really tell it had Dr. Pepper in it. Next time (and there absolutely will be one), I'll reduce the soda down by half on the stovetop and use that instead of soda straight out of the can. Can't hurt to try. :)
Oh, and just to make a record for all posterity, this cake instituted a new cake rule for me. No logos. Ever again. Never. Ever. Ever. Let's just say that I was having such a hard time with the logo (cut out of fondant and outlined in black buttercream), that I had to spend a full 20 minutes getting over the panic attack I had while trying to finish it. You know... when all of our company walked through the door. *sigh* I'm not proud of having a panic attack over something like a cake. In front of my parents and in-laws. But. Well. That's how *I* roll, I suppose. Love me or leave me.
Tomorrow will be MY birthday post. There was lots of happy with very minimal yuck. I'll tell ya all about it. :)
PS. On a totally random note, I think it's odd for my spell check to always and forever flag "buttercream" as a spelling mistake. Doesn't EVERYONE, including Mr. Webster, know that my life's blood is spelled B-U-T-T-E-R-C-R-E-A-M? So weird.