We Welcome Random Cake

I was expecting that food would be a big part of the pregnancy. I never had much of a sweet tooth, but for some reason, I craved cake. Angel food cake, chocolate cake, cupcakes, cake, cake, cake! My status on facebook during the wee lonely hours of the night involved these yearnings for baked treats.

I sent my hubby to the grocery store for a chocolate cake mix, whipping cream and cherry pie filling. It was to be a layer cake unsurpassed in moistness and fruity creaminess, all for me. He came home with the cake mix, lite cherry pie filling, and lite Cool Whip. Our baby was just about born without a father. I could have murdered him with my bare hands. Did I ask for edible oil products? I believe if we review the tape, that wasn't on the list. Even in my hormonal rage with thoughts of "Nobody listens to me, yadda yadda yadda", I knew I was being a super-crazy selfish bitch and bit my tongue. I mean, he went to the grocery store for me. And let's face it-- I made the cake and ate it anyway.

One morning he got home from work at 5am, and he came into the house with a cake that he had found sitting on our truck.

My god. What should I do? Where did it come from? How will I crack this enigma? And how long does pineapple upside down cake last before it's past its prime? Somebody tell me.... what is my timeline to unravel this mystery before it's TOO LATE??? I need to eat this cake but just CAN'T until I know where it came from!!!! I started to study the paper plate and cellophane that contained this sweet gift, trying to decipher who would be crazy enough to do such a cruel thing to me. I scanned my list of friends on Facebook, searching for the culprit. This was no saran wrap, my friends. This was decorative cellophane with a ribbon. A ribbon.

A family member asked us later that day if the cake made it to our house. She wouldn't tell me who made it, but when we asked her if it was safe to eat, she said yes, and hearing that was good enough for me.

That poor cake, god rest its soul. We made short work of it, all the while, still not knowing its origin or its story.

That night, I was in the grocery store, looking at the cakes in the display case (I'm not even kidding you), and someone walked up behind me and said, "Haven't you had enough cake today?". It was a family friend, aka, the cake maker/carport skulker. So thanks, if you are reading this, for that cake. It was delicious and I will never forget such a nice gesture.