“All the sweet, green icing flowing down…
Someone left the cake out in the rain
I don’t think that I can take it
‘Cause it took so long to bake it
And I’ll never have that recipe again
Oh, no! “

So here’s the deal…

Matt and I had a few drinks. Matt and I took some promethazine (his medicine; I’ve taken it before but I ran out) for my back hurting and his kidney pain. I remembered my mother’s birthday cake was cooling on the stove and my step dad had left me specific instructions for the cake: White icing with a dusting of sprinkles plus the candy smiles, flowers and peace signs. Hmm. A dusting of sprinkles? Matt and I iced the cake, tipsy and dizzy. We plopped the candy decorations on it. I closed the lid on the cake pan. Then I seen the jar of sprinkles. “We forgot the sprinkles,” I said. “Open the cake back up,” Matt replied. “Yeah, open the cake back up,” I said. “Can I write COUGAR on it?” he asked. “No COUGARS!” I replied, tearing the plastic dome on the cake pan. “You suck,” Matt replied, and grabbed the jar of sprinkles, and unscrewed the lid. “Gimme the sprinkles,” I said, and reached for them, tossing the plastic dome on the floor, amongst the dog hair. “I’m fuckin’ writin’ COUGAR on that fuckin’ cake no matter what you fuckin’ say!” he replied. I made a dive for the sprinkles. Matt dropped the entire jar on the cake.

We both sat there looking at the mess he’d made.

We were in deep silence.

Just MacArthur Park playing in the back ground.

I sighed. Closed up the cake. “Maybe they won’t notice,” I said. Matt ran and got my camera. He said the cake was Cake Wrecks worthy. I don’t think it’s that bad. Or maybe it is. It looks … terrible. Maybe mom can have a happy birthday next year?

Yes, I tried to even out the sprinkles with a spatula. I failed. Obviously.

See why it’s a bad idea to drink and decorate a cake, kids?!

I’m going to go crash and try to sleep off this dizziness and drunk-y-ness. Maybe my step dad won’t notice the cake when he comes to pick it up tonight…
Oh, and if anyone submits it to Cake Wrecks, give me credit, ok? I won’t be mad as long as I get credit.