People are always surprised when I say that I make my own birthday cakes. My mother gets annoyed, though, because she thinks that, the way I tell it, it sounds like she just quit making my cakes and left me stranded in the kitchen.
When that is sooo not how it happened.
See, I wanted to make my own birthday cakes. I still do. I wanted to pour through Family Fun magazine, and make a Teddy Grahm pool cake, or stick my pink Power Rangers Barbie doll in a tiered cake and cover it in sprinkles and call it a "dress." I think my mom had a pretty hard time getting me out of the kitchen when she was baking. And as the years went on, I pretty much kicked her out.
So when I proudly say that I make my own birthday cakes (and yes, I write "Happy Birthday Kelsie" on them, because why would I write "Happy Birthday Me" anyway?!), it is not because my mom has subpar baking skills or hated making her children's birthday cakes, because neither of those are true. It's because I love to bake. I always have, and I always will!
Two more days until I'm 19!