CakeHeads

She did it again.

She always does this.

My mom, makes these cakes that drive us crazy.

My poor daughter is only 4-years-old and already addicted.

 I’m a South Florida native so we took a quick trip home for Superbowl weekend in Miami.

My firstborn fidgeted the entire trip chanting,

“Be patient, we’re waiting to get on the plane now,” I said.

“Baby, the plane has to wait its turn to take off,” I explain.

“As soon as we land, we’ll be on our way, just be patient,” I told her.

I know she loooooves grandma, but she was especially antsy, wriggling in the seat, whining and whimpering all the way. It was typical “Are we there yet?” behavior.

It wasn’t until we deplaned that I learned the true cause of her anxiety.

I said, “Really, are you sure she made one?”

I hoped her young intuition was correct. My sentiments about this particular cake are outlined here, if you’d like to read up on some history. The minute we were safely strapped into my mother’s car I asked grandma if she had indeed prepared a cake. She told me no. This meant she had a LOT of explaining to do. In fact, she spent the entire ride to her house justifying this faux pas to the little person in the back seat.

The very next morning, she was on task. The cake was in the oven before noon. It was gone in less than 24 hours.