"I'd like to be the ideal mother, but I'm too busy raising my kids."
Its Mother's Day: the perfect day to write a little epilogue to the story of the Octonaut's birthday cake.
I received such lovely, generous comments to last week's birthday cake post, that I thought I ought to set the record a little straighter. Here, friends, is the reality ...
- The cake was made with a commercial packet mix
- The cake fell apart when I turned it out of the tin - who the heck gets a packet mix wrong?
swore a lotmade a polite exasperated sound
- I made another packet mix cake
- The bottom fell off the cake - what kind of clown gets two packet mixes wrong?
- I ran out of packet mixes. More swearing.
- I had to glue the cake back together with fondant icing - a shedload of icing.
- There was a disproportionate (and unfavourable) cake-to-icing ratio
- The Octonauts decorations were really tricky to construct. I am afflicted with sausage-fingers. I spilt purple food dye down a cupboard. I glared at anyone who approached the kitchen. I spent more time on the cake, than I did holding the party. I swore a lot.
- I don't think anyone actually liked eating the cake. Even the small children. That's saying something .... small children will eat anything inanimate labelled cake.
- Not long after the party finished, I found Bargy breaking all the Octonaut decorations into small pieces (Look mum, I made a jigsaw). They were only icing. But I cried anyway.
A very happy Mothers Day to all the mums out there. (Remember: smoke-and-mirrors are your friends.)