A very nice couple invited us to dinner last night in their brand new home. Since it was, quite literally, a brand new home and the hostess had denied offers for us to contribute to the meal I thought it would be nice to take some kind of token housewarming…I don’t know…thing. As I rummaged around the house I remembered that I had some plain, leftover bundt cakes in my freezer that were undecorated, and wouldn’t it be nice to make a tasty buttercream frosting, decorate the cakes and bestow them upon our hostess at our arrival? Why yes, I thought so too.
I pulled out the cakes to thaw and began mixing my frosting – some cinnamon here, a little almond extract there, and a drip of vanilla to round everything out and I was good to go. Samantha gussied up a bit of cardboard, we set the cakes side by side and I began to frost. Five minutes later I looked quizzically at my little creation and tilted my head. What the tilt of my head was trying to say here was, “Um, Vern? I know you think you’re all awesome and domestic and everything, but your cakes here LOOK LIKE BREASTS.”
Turns out my head tilt was totally right, so I tried to fix it. Maybe if I sprinkle a little bit of cinnamon and sugar on top it will help. Know what happens when you sprinkle cinnamon and sugar on white buttercream? The cinnamon sort of absorbs into the frosting creating a nice, appetizing shade of areola.
But I was not yet defeated! With a fresh bouquet of flowers on my kitchen table I attempted a Big Fat Greek Wedding approach to the bundt, but the damage had already been done and I couldn't seem to see past what appeared to be a lovely pair of Woodstock Boobs.
To be sure I wasn’t overreacting I held up my little creation to Cory and said, “Honey, do you see anything wrong with this dessert?” As he came over to inspect my work he suggested, “Uhh…can you scrape off the nipples?” That’s it! This was not suitable for company.
We arrived at dinner empty handed.
But I supposed that’s better than boobs on a plate.