Yesterday, I attempted to set the scene for a crazy party. I did this, of course, by baking a King Cake, the official Mardi Gras cake of New Orleans. The cake was awesome only it didn’t really rise up the way it was supposed to. It was a very, very thick cake. My father said that bakers don’t say that cakes are thick but that they are heavy. I didn’t want to give my father the satisfaction of being right so I decided to say that it was dense. I made a very dense cake. It was happy though because it was bright and colorful. The green, yellow, and purple sugar crystals looked awesome. But the cake was pretty gross. I ate some and decided to be done. My mom ate several pieces, but she has been sick and her tastebuds are no-good when she’s ill. My dad ate a bunch, but that was because he didn’t want to be responsible for cooking dinner for the rest of us. And my niece MayTay had some and loved it, but this girl thinks Peeps are real food so her judgment is questionable. All in all, I was happy that people ate the cake. Their eager consumption made it so I felt less obligated to eat the gross thing. But then I realized that the whole reason the cake didn’t turn out was because I made it during lent. Only the really bad sinners would do this. Oh well, I guess.
So let’s talk about you. How will you survive hump day today? Well, you will survive it knowing that you didn’t ruin a fancy king cake, that you’re not superstitious enough to believe that it didn’t turn out because Ash Wednesday had passed, and that there are only two more days until Friday.
Tata for now.