There’s no such thing as too much cake

July 11th, 2011

The Small Boy got over life’s injustice fairly well. It helped that when we got home from that last practice his grandmother was here (R was out of town and my mother-in-law gave the Boychen dinner and put him to bed) and the Small Boy was able to cry to the most sympathetic person on the planet and have somebody agree with him that it wasn’t fair. He went off to school fairly happily the next day and by Friday had forgotten all about it (well, who knows if he’s forgotten it – I doubt it, actually – but it doesn’t seem to be at the forefront of his mind anymore). On Saturday I surprised him with a cake decorated with his name in frosting and some things meant to represent highlights from his year: two hockey players, a soccer shirt, the ABCs, a white horse representing his school play that caused all this drama in the first place (the play had been called The White Horse). I told him it was for his year and for all the things he had done this year, and done so well, and that I was really proud of him. He got all quiet, the way he does when he’s especially pleased by something, then declared he wanted the piece with the soccer jersey on it – it was made of marzipan, after all.

I think he was happy.

Then he said he thinks there should be a cake at the end of every school year. I think that’s a fine idea, each school year closed out with a special cake, and if that means that soon there will be two cakes, for soon there will be two school boys, then two cakes there shall be. Really, what boy wouldn’t want a cake made just for him and not even on his birthday?

And truth be told, there is no such thing as too much cake.