The Cake Chronicles: See What Had Happened Was...

Having My Cake And Eating It Too....

Recently, this incident happened to me. All jokes aside, this is the honest to goodness truth. For real. This entry is inspired by my mom's birthday, which is today. See what had happened was:

Very recently, a certain bakery has been calling my name. It doesn't call on the phone. It doesn't email or text message me either. Let me explain. When I'm on my way to work, I have to take a street that leads out of my neighborhood. And that street leads to a 4-way stoplight. When I'm waiting at the light, I usually put my house keys away in my purse, adjust the air condition or heat, adjust my collar, check my seatbelt, check the radio stations, or pop in my own music. But in the process of all of that, a small cupcake voice calls my name. The voice comes from directly across the street from the stoplight. But I dismiss that little voice, because at 7:30 a.m. or 8:00 a.m. it's too early to be consuming sugary sweets. I've already eaten my breakfast and at that point I'm not hungry at all. So, when the light turns green, I gun my car through the intersection onto the highway.

After a tiring day at work, I'm all beat down. I'm dragging my wagon. It is close to 6:00 p.m., and I haven't eaten since lunch at noon. I'm not my usual cheery self. So I head for home, which involves a traffic-filled, 40-minute commute. Then, I exit the highway to go home. During this particular time, either I could make a right turn to the street that leads to my home or I could make a left turn to the shopping center where the bakery is located. My justified thinking told me to turn left so that I could drop by the grocery store to pick up a few things. Yeah right. As I waited at the stoplight, the cupcake voice called my name again. "A Z I Z A....Zee, girl you hear me....To the bakery, ASAP!!!..." I kid you not.....*long pause*...*blink*

"My car took cruise control to a whole new level. It made a left turn by itself and perfectly parked in the parking lot near the bakery. My hands weren't even touching the steering wheel. And like a person under hypnosis, I walked into the bakery and purchased two cupcakes. This incident happens to me every Friday evening. For real, I insist!!!"

The True Story

Okay, okay. That previous story bent the truth a little bit. Yeah, you heard me, a little. Cut me some slack. Pretty please? Anyway, I have to admit that I love cake and always have. I can do without breakfast, lunch, and dinner if a slice of cake is the substitute. I don't need a whole cake, because too much of a good thing isn't good. Plus, that's too expensive. All I need is a cupcake or two to fulfill my obsession. Birthdays, anniversaries, baby showers, etc. only feed my obsession for cake, since these celebrations usually include cake.

I think my cake obsession began as a child. I equate cake with happy times. I can remember one memory very vividly. I was about to turn 6 years old. My family always celebrated my birthday, and I had attended other kids' birthday parties, but they were usually quiet celebrations. But when I turned 6, my parents really outdid themselves. My mother, the socialite, invited the kids of all of her friends, which was a lot of folks. As a painfully shy kid, I thought the attention would nearly kill me. But I managed to rise to the occasion with my parents' help. When the invited arrived, my mother pulled me along to the front door to show me how to warmly greet guests, graciously accept gifts, and direct the kids to the backyard to play on the swingset or to participate in the party games (pin the tail on the donkey, musical chairs, etc.), while the other mothers chatted with my mother inside. Neighborhood kids watched the party from afar in their yards. Although my parents had seen their share of racism and discrimination thrown their way in their lives, they proceeded to invite every kid on our street (black, white, hispanic and asian) as long as their parents gave them permission. Our home was open to everyone. We kids had a blast.

This day had been sort of a surprise to me. I was surprised to find my mom setting up the party in the dining room, which was one of the rooms (the other was the living room) my brother and I were never supposed to be found playing in unless we wanted to feel mom and dad's wrath via a switch.) Plus, I don't know how my parents dealt with all of us kids running and screaming all over the place. **Side Note: Please don't take this the wrong way, but little kids can drive you crazy. **

When cake time came, I, donned in my glittery, pink, partygirl hat, had to walk to my appointed spot at the head of table. I was too shy to speak to strangers. So, how in the world was I going to manage singing how old I was in a few minutes? But what caught my attention was the beautifully decorated cake with my name on it. "Happy Birthday Aziza!!!" My cake with 6 glowing candles was decorated with white frosting and pink and green borders (my sorority colors...*wink*). And the cake had a miniature carousel and clowns on it. My shyness melted away for that day. Not only was the cake beautiful, but it was also wonderfully delicious. It was love at first sight, endless love, and nirvana wrapped up into one. I was happy enough with my cake until my dad brought in my first bike. It was the color of a sparkling blue ocean. I could have fainted from extreme excitement. Life couldn't get much better.

My adult birthdays are much different these days. My family and friends live many miles away. And I usually have to work on my birthday. So, I usually pick up a couple of cupcakes from the local bakery to celebrate alone as I open the cards and gifts from my family and friends. Things may not always be this way. If I'm blessed with kids, I'm going to promise that I throw them a birthday party too that they will never ever forget.

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Song of the Day:

Endless Love by Lionel Richie and Diana Ross