Pink cake

A hundred years ago, or maybe just 20, Canape and I spent the day together, baking something in her mother’s kitchen. This in itself was not unusual; we often baked or sang or just sat about talking in her living room — we were just that kind of rebellious, y’know?

We were best friends, dating guys who were best friends, seeing them mostly at church (Wednesday, Saturday, and twice on Sunday, thankyouverymuch), and I don’t remember the details, but I remember very vividly the fact that she wanted to make him a cake. A pink cake, shaped like a heart. And we baked and she cut and she iced and worked for hours, making that pink heart-shaped cake. A whole lot of effort and care and caring went into that cake, and she was going to surprise him with it that night.

At the time, I remember wishing that I loved someone that much, enough to spend a whole afternoon worrying over the layers and the icing and the whole heart-shaped-iness of it all. I wondered if that day would ever come for me.

Of course it did, and I laughed about it as I remembered that long-ago day this morning. I put aside my work and spent the entire day playing with my little boys, planting bulbs in little glass vases in hopes that forcing them would force Spring to come, and we baked a cake.

A pink, heart-shaped cake, layered with raspberry jam, with crooked letters spelled out very earnestly across the top:

We love you, Daddy.


8 Responses to Pink cake

  1. Kristin says:

    I think I’m still waiting and I envy you that pink cake.

  2. Donna W says:

    You could be making a living writing like this.

    I feel privileged to read your words.

  3. smocha says:

    This has nothing to do with your post,I’m afraid.
    I just read about you and your blog in Health magazine (I got it at the thrift store, so I don’t even know how old it was)
    I would like to email you , but I do not see a way to do that on your blog.
    Actually, I can’t find out how to do it on my own blog…but other people seem to know where to find it. πŸ™‚

    Can you please let me know how to email you.

    Thanks, Lena

  4. Bon says:

    oh sniff. that’s lovely.

    and now i want cake.

    and seriously, church four times a week? my mother longed for THAT teenager. πŸ™‚

  5. whymommy says:

    Well, Saturday night wasn’t anything formal … fun and games, volleyball, capture the flag, pounding away at the piano … but it kept us out of trouble.

  6. Abbyjess says:

    That is too sweet. I’m sure your hubby loved it. I may have to do something like this for Vday. I love baking and well frankly he loves eating so it’s the perfect Valentine.

  7. marty says:

    Yes, Bon, we were good teenagers. No denying it. We still had fun though πŸ™‚

    I had forgotten the cake was pink. Thank you for this story.

  8. Isn’t it interesting to think about your younger self and the things you wished for? I used to pray that God would send me a glimpse of what my future husband would look like so I wouldn’t miss him when I saw him. I’m glad that “that day” has come for you…many more.

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