My Amazing Birthday Cake

When Joey and I were looking for a bakery for our wedding cake, frosting quality was the #1 priority for me. We found a place (Jules Bakery in Marion) that had killer cake and amazing frosting. It was a match made in heaven, just like the two of us.

The day before my birthday as Joey was dropping me off at work I reminded him, "Now don't forget to make me a birthday cake. With lots of frosting."

"I won't, I won't," he assured me.

"I like Funfetti." I offered. Joey likes it when I don't hint, I just tell him. I am learning. Slowly.

One year (the first year we were married) I had to make my own birthday cake. That was kind of a traumatizing event; Joey now knows that it's Very Important that I not have to make my own birthday cake.

So on Tuesday, poor Joey went to class and then immediately ran home where, unbeknownst to me, he loaded up my new pinkPod with all my favorite songs. That being done, there was no time for cake building.

When I arrived home from work we hopped straight in the car and went to the movies (50 cent night...) and then to dinner. Halfway though our very romantic birthday date, he admitted to me that the cake was not yet built.

"But I'm going to build it when we get home. Even if we have to eat it at 11:00 tonight," he assured me.

We arrived home and Joey began building my cake with speed and agility. (Women make cakes, men build them. Joey is adamant.) As it turns out, we were short 1 egg. So we had to run to the grocery in the middle of Joey's cake-building eggstravaganza. The cake was finally in the oven about 8:45.

At 9:15 Joey pulled out 2 gorgeously browned, perfectly moist layers of my yellow butter cake.

"Sit down. I am going to cool this and then I will frost it."

I sat.

Joey stood in the kitchen looking at the cakes on the cooling rack. (A watched cake never cools...) After 15 minutes he gave up and began whipping the frosting he'd bought (two tubs! for one cake!) in a bowl.

"I'm making it light and fluffy for you," he explained.

After 20 minutes he lost patience all together and began frosting the cake. I was told not to come and watch, so I remained on the couch, happily reading my book.

I heard strange shaking noises coming from the kitchen but, being so commanded, stayed on the couch. A few minutes later, a sheepish Joey came running out of the kitchen.

"Do we have any candles?"

"Yes, they're behind..." I explained where they were. You really don't care where I keep my birthday candles, do you?

He dashed back into the kitchen where I heard quite a bit of rummaging. (I keep my candles in a very inconvenient location since I only use them twice a year.) A few minutes later...

"Happy birthday to you!" He sang to me, holding a very frosting-laden cake covered in Funfetti sprinkles and ablaze with candles.

"WOW!" I exclaimed, clapping my hands in delight, "It's amazing!"

He finished "Happy Birthday" and I blew out my candles. (All five of them.)

"I put tons of frosting on it for you," he said as he cut me a piece cake that was so top-heavy with frosting that it broke in half on my plate.

"I know, I can tell. It's the most beautiful birthday cake anyone has ever built me!" I assured him.

And it was.