What a guy

Remember how I said that on my planet the perfect boyfriends are born equipped with pockets? On this planet, mine knows how much I love this website. My subscription to the RSS feed guarantees me a good daily laugh.
He's been paying attention.
With my birthday coming he went on a secret mission to our favorite bakery where exquisite, delicious works of true art are the rule. He invested time and effort convincing them that a Cake Wreck for my birthday would be the best present ever. They were horrified and dubious. He pointed them to the Cake Wrecks website and made some suggestions. After several days of discussion, they reluctantly agreed.
The result is a masterpiece.




Tasteful and understated, but a wreck of art. They have perfectly distilled many critical elements of cake-wreckiness so dear to my heart: uneven and lopsided, with misspellings, random punctuation, literal instructions transmitted into the piped inscription, frosting that looks like the cats ran through it several times, artfully placed oozes of chocolate dribbled around the edges, deliriously unplanned spacing. I am so thrilled and delighted. And best of all, this cake is going to be divinely delicious.

Surprise!

It was a surprise. Thirty-six years ago, I was full-term size at Thanksgiving. No baby. No baby. No baby. At Christmas the doctor ordered an x-ray. Surprise! Twins. New Year's Eve I started having some light labor pains. The neighbors next door invited me over for a party, but instead I went to bed. No baby(ies). Finally, the morning of the 5th, Ryan and Rachel decided it was the right time. And they were still the first baby(ies) of the year for Pacific Grove-Pebble Beach!

Happy birthday, my sweet, grown-up, stubborn, triple Capricorn kids!


Here they are, a few days later, with their fairy (or rather, fuzzy) godmother, Ziggy. She was the best guardian in the world, loved those two babies as if they were here own, fussed over them and screened all visitors for worth. However, after a few sleepless nights (it was pretty much round the clock feeding and diaper changing for several weeks initially), Ziggy decided she needed her sleep, and moved her bed down the hall.



I still have the braids, though somehow, mysteriously, they have turned grey.