Fella's Cake Bake 2011

Camping cake, complete with:

• Rock candy fire pit
• Tootsie Roll bear & benches
• Swedish fish
• Pretzel tent poles
• Licorice guy wires

- 26 February 2011

Fella's Cake Bake 2012

There's nothing like waiting until the very last minute to accomplish something.  Each year, for the Cub Scout Blue & Gold Banquet, the boys and their fathers bake a cake in a friendly culinary competition.  Boys only!  No female influence.  At 10 o'clock that morning it occurred to me that the Fella's Cake Bake was less than eight hours away. 

Between that moment and the start of the banquet, we had to mix, bake, cool and decorate a cake.  Oh, we also had to take Ethan to a birthday party, attempt to get Logan down for a nap, purchase the ingredients and come up with a design.  It was all hands on deck!

Ashley immediately arranged a look of utter glee on her face and promptly left the house.  She would probably have made a faster getaway had it not been for the 175 pounds of whimpering husband attached to her leg begging her for mercy.

Fine!  Let's get organized.  What's this year's theme?  Pinewood derby.
Okay...

"Let's make an angry bird," I suggested.

"Yes!"

"Cool!"

The insanity was mounting.

Now, how do you make a round cake, 3-D of course, without a round cake pan?  Easy, you visit every store in the city and track one down.  What happens when that plan fails?  Think...think...aren't those ball-shaped cake pans constantly being advertised on TV?  Sadly, we couldn't wait 6-8 weeks for delivery.  We barely had 6-8 hours.  How about the library?  No, really.  Our library lets you check out specially shaped cake tins.  Who knew?

Unfortunately, the closest we could get was an Easter egg cake pan.  This raised an eyebrow with both Justin and the librarian.  Somehow, I had failed to fully convey my idea and everyone was under the impression that we were going to bake two Easter egg cakes (roughly the shape of half a hard boiled egg cut lengthwise), stand them on end and bind them together with some sort of frosting miracle.  Justin was very upset.  The librarian was very upset.  There was no time to argue, it would simply have to do.  Oh, ye of little faith.

In the end, we managed quite nicely.  Ethan made it to his party, Logan took a 20 minute nap and the cake took shape.  No injuries were reported, no trips to the emergency room and there was very little weeping.  Success!  I believe the hardest part was getting just the right color of yellow for the bottom feathers.  For a while, it looked like we were going to have to pick between different shades of diarrhea but we finally ended up with the correct combination of food coloring. 

We didn't win any awards.  When it came to the theme, we were slightly off course.  Our reward was the fun and the adventure as only we could have done it.  We'll remember this forever.

Not too bad for three boys, a can of white frosting and a dream.  Thank goodness this is only an annual event!

- 25 February 2012

Rewarding Good Behavior

"When dinner is over, I will sort the laundry and you boys will need to fold yours and put it away," I said, speaking directly to my eight and eleven-year-old sons.

There was an enormous collective sigh.  Justin's eyes rolled so far back into his head that I could no longer see their color.  From my left came an excited gasp.

"I want to fold laundry and put it away too, with you guys!" Logan announced to his brothers.  "'Cause I sat quietly at the movie theater!"

Logan could barely contain his excitement.  Never could a more perfect reward, for sitting noiselessly through a movie and eating popcorn, have been conceived.  No other child of three could dare to dream of being this lucky.

Good man, Logan.  Good man.  Later, if you want some real excitement, I can show you how to empty the cat box.

- 4 March 2012

There Are Days

When I came home from my business trip, Ashley picked me up from the airport.  Before she dropped me off at home and returned to work, we came up with a plan for the rest of the afternoon.  I was to pick the boys up from school.  Her advice was to either show up early (a mere 20 minutes from then) or arrive later to avoid the crowds of parents and to be able to find a parking spot.  It was decided that I would arrive at three o'clock, 20 minutes after the final bell.

On the dot of 2:40, just as planned, Justin called me from school to find out what to do.  I told him that I would be coming to collect his brother and him at three and they were to meet me out in front of the school.

"Which front?" he asked.

What?

"The front," I replied. "How many fronts are there?" I wondered aloud.

"Well, I just wasn't sure which one you meant." he explained.

Again I ask, how many fronts are there?

"The front," I repeated more forcefully.

You know, the one that isn't the back.

"Out by the bell," I added, hoping that this additional reference would solve the mystery.

"The bell?" he asked.  "What bell?"

Oh for Pete's sake.  May I please speak to someone else - anyone else - who goes to school there?

"Oh, the bell," he said.

Yes, the bell.

"I was confused," he continued.

You don't say.

"The other bell was ringing," he explained.

In the background I could, in fact, hear a bell ringing. Although, I'm still not convinced that it wasn't one of the bells inside his head.

"Alright, I'll see you at three," I said with exasperated finality and hung up.

Not five minutes had passed, during which I had attempted to put the newly arrived licence plates on the truck so that I could legally drive to school and pick them up.  The temporary license had expired two days earlier and I was not keen on being pulled over for expired anything, again...but that's a story for another day.  The telephone rang.  I put my tools down and took shelter from the rain as I answered.

"Dad?"

"What is it Justin?"

"Mom wants to know why you're waiting until three o'clock to come and get us."

Is this a prank?

"Because she told me to!" I shouted.

The next thing I knew, Ashley was on the phone.  I drew breath and prepared to outline my frustration with this ridiculous line of conversation.

"You're going to have to switch cars with me because of Logan," she announced.

Holy topic changes, Batman!

"No," I insisted.  "I've got it all worked out.  There's a plan," I said, hoping that the special emphasis on the last word would remind her of the very strategy that she and I had formulated less than half an hour ago.

"Oh, okay, here's Justin" she said with polite interest, passing the receiver.

"Dad?"

Good grief, why don't you put Ethan on the phone too, I haven't talked to him yet.

"Hello, Justin."

He could sense my mounting frustration.

"I have another question."

Oh, thank God.  I was worried that we were finished.

"Justin, every time you call, I have to stop what I'm doing, put down my tools and come in out of the rain to answer the phone."

"I think I'll wait and ask you later," he said, attempting to back slowly out of the conversation.

"I think that's a good idea."

I wonder how you all feel about walking home in the rain?  You see, I won't be using a motor vehicle today because I'm never going to get these plates on the truck.  And did you really just call me because your mother wants to know why I'm following her instructions?  None of my friends will believe this.  All of their wives call to find out why they're not following instructions.

- 9 February 2012

Tummy Spokesman

"My tummy says I'm hungry."

Okay.

"My tummy says my leg hurts."

Very good.

"My tummy says it's Saturday."

Fine.

Logan, let me know when your tummy has the winning lottery numbers.

- 29 February 2012

Literally

What is it about boys' wiring that triggers the seemingly involuntary muscle response, drawing them to your side like a magnet and causing them to interrupt you, when they sense that you are trying to have a conversation with another adult?  Seriously, I'm calling an electrician.

Case in point: Wednesday

The boys had been home with Ashley for at least an hour by the time I arrived from work.  Plenty of time, I think you'll agree, to carry on any number of conversations, no matter how ridiculous.  But no.  I was literally half way through my first sentence, in response to Ashley's question, "how was your day?" when Justin materialized out of thin air and began his onslaught. 

In his hand, he bore a small bottle of MiO. 

"How come we have this?  I didn't know we had this.  Do you use this?  Does Dad use this?"

And so it continued.  At each and every point, as he paused to draw breath, I mounted a counter attack and attempted to speak.  I say paused because I don't know how else to refer to the fact that he seems to have perfected circular breathing and no longer finds it necessary to stop and inhale.  Apparently, the sound of an adult voice acts in a similar manner to a play/pause button...without the pause.  On a related note, it can never be said that I do not do my part to keep a conversation going, despite how badly I may wish to bring it to a swift conclusion.  It struck me as funny that he wasn't even talking to me (well, at me - this was less of a conversation than it was a soliloquy) and, at certain points, I was in another room.

"Simon really likes these," he said.  "Can I give them to him...can I?"

"Justin!  Give me a second," Ashley cut in with a bedraggled sigh and a look of utter exhaustion. 

Indeed, the last 90 seconds had seemed like 90 minutes.  He literally waited the exact second it took to draw breath before he continued.  I don't think Ashley ever found out how my day had gone.  Most of that day was purged from my memory during the short circuit that resulted from having been a part of this verbal episode.  Lord, give us strength!

- 29 February 2012

Crowded

"Daddy, can I play with my special dinosaurs?"

"Yes, but just two, Logan."

"Okay."

I literally turned away for thirty-two seconds to answer another boy's question.  When I turned back...well.  I should have been suspicious when he dashed past me on his way out of the bathroom.  Did it dawn on me that the toys were already lying neatly in a basket next to the tub?  Obviously not.  I'm glad I imposed a limit despite it's apparent ineffectiveness.

Note to self: relationship of numbers to physical objects - needs work.

- 29 February 2012