A couple of weeks ago, the small person you know as Anklebiter #2 (my son) turned seven. His shirt says it all: he is an energy bomb full of mischievous tricks, determination and – dare I say it? – a large dose of stubbornness.
What’s that, mum? He reminds you of someone? Surely… you don’t mean… ME?
He’s a self-assured little fellow, who doesn’t mind what others think of him. Many a time I’ve gone to playgrounds and shopping centres with him dressed in red flowery dresses when he was smaller. Those days are gone (and remembered fondly) – but he still goes his own way.
In spite of my patchy cooking skills, he wanted me to bake him a chocolate cake. It was an interesting experiment as I left it in the oven for a bit too long, and it was – how shall I put it? – very crunchy around the edges but lovely and soft in the middle.
Anklebiter #1 made some icing to hide the burnt bits and we stuck strawberries and sweets on the top. The cake disappeared quickly – in spite of the fact that we could also have played frisbee with it!
For more bites of life, please visit: My World!
Our little anklebiter turned six last week.
Today, he shared a birthday party with one of his best friends. Nobody wanted to have 14 pre-school kids on a sugar high in their homes tearing pictures off the walls or swinging from the ceiling lamps like Tarzan and Jane (too late: this has already been done at home!) – so we did the only sensible thing – and held the party at a soft play area where they are used to kids smearing ice cream all over their hair and faces (four kids did this), screaming their heads off so that the windows shattered (all kids), throwing their juice on the floor (2 kids) and littering the floor with so much wrapping paper that it looked as if a confetti factory had exploded (the two birthday boys).
All in all, it was a successful party.
The only problem is that my ears are ringing… but I refuse to answer!
Thank you for your good wishes yesterday. I did indeed get some chocolate cake. Quite amazing really as I have not eaten cake on my birthday for the past seven or eight years! What an oversight, right? As neither Sir Pe nor I are any good on the cooking front, Sir Pe surprised me with a bought cake. One that he picked out with loving care though.
The chocolate icing hid a soft chocolatey sponge with apricot jam between the layers. Quite an unusual taste – but a good one.
Now, I promised Sir Pe that I would be kind to him about the cake. So, I won’t mention the fact that those green cherries were really quite luminous – almost neon green – in real life, so that they resembled droppings from little green men or Rudolph the reindeer’s nose gone mouldy. No siree – I won’t mention it! I will tell you, however, that I ate them up anyway. And those big flowers were made out of marzipan and were utterly delicious, according to the kids. (I didn’t get a look-in, although I did manage to purloin one of the marzipan leaves when no one was looking…)
I ate a big slice of the cake for supper – and drank a cup of tea – and that was it! I was stuffed to the gills and quite unable to eat anything else. (The leftover slices were shared with some neighbours.)
I woke up this morning, still feeling full.
And that, dear readers, is the true wonder of birthday cake.
You live in the zoo!
You look like a monkey…
And you smell like one too!
By the time you get to read this, my little anklebiters will probably have ‘woken’ me up (I’ll be lying in bed, pretending to sleep) with that sweet little birthday song, some home-made birthday cards, and (if Sir Pe has picked up all those hints in the form of e-mails, notes and messages) a couple of wrapped up books to savour.
It is Swedish tradition to wake up the birthday person (child or adult) with presents, candles and birthday cake. That’s right – you have to eat cake for breakfast! We don’t usually follow this tradition although last year, I had ice cream with chocolate sauce and blueberries for breakfast!
But – if I were to have some cake – what kind would it be, do you think?
I think that all those with dentist-phobia (like myself) would like to send me a cake with a bite in revenge for my horrifying dentist stories.
To tell you the ‘tooth’, I wouldn’t look this gift horse in the mouth!
And from all those who have been appalled or amused by my sewing mishaps, I might received something a along these lines…
Sew…what do you think? Too good to eat? (So, that’s what needle and thread looks like…)
I have to confess, though, that I do have a weakness for chocolate, especially dark chocolate. Wouldn’t it be great if a big refrigerated truck drew up outside the house and delivered this eye-opening sculpture – made out of chocolate?
When 900 years you reach, look as good, you will not.