Sunday, September 28, 2008
And we all know what that means….a call has been placed post haste to the attorney demanding an immediate dissolution of my marriage! Not only is cake a standard birthday staple…I’m a SIF! I eat cake for no reason at all. Given an occasion to cover up the aforementioned “crime”, I’m going to take full advantage. He did good right up until dessert. We went to my favorite restaurant (JK’s) and had: Salmon stuffed Jalapenos, shrimp, salad and Tobacco fried Flounder. Most yummy. Oh and a few too many martinis. I guess I was preparing myself for no cake. Better to be drunk than caught off guard. Then the unthinkable…he said he was too full for dessert. Surely it was a trick. I just knew somewhere, there was a cake, in a room full of my friends waiting to watch me dive in head first. Not so much. When the waitress asked if we were having dessert he said, “It’s her birthday.” I guess that meant, give fatty her cake.
She proceeded to bring me a slab of Brownie covered in hot fudge, dabbed with melted whipped cream and topped with candle wax. Not the Food Lion butter cream icing I was hoping for but whatever. So I will do what any SIF would do in this situation. I will carry my fat ass to the Food Lion and buy myself a cake. Not because I’m a spoiled brat who has to have cake on her birthday. No. Because I was deprived of my one “get out of jail free” cake. Do pass Go. Do Collect as much cake as you can eat. I may even have them write, “Happy Birthday” just so that no one thinks I am eating the cake. No one would buy themselves a cake right? Wrong. In fact, I may even sing to myself: “Happy Birthday SIF, Happy Birthday you big Fatty, Happy Birthday person who got no cake on your birthday..Happy Birthday to you. Sounds catchy.
Ok so maybe it’s not enough to call for a divorce but it’s certainly one to store away for future torment. I’ll add it to the collection. To top it all off, I didn’t win the $200million Powerball. There’s no justice. No cake. No money. What’s next? I’ll learn that I am genetically pre-dispositioned to be fat forever. Perhaps I already know that. Thanks Milkman. So I’m off to church to ask God why I didn’t win the Powerball and why I didn’t get my cake. I can never seem to get a straight answer. I suppose it’s my lot in life to live in poverty sans cake. Bla Bla…There are poor people everywhere who’ve never had cake. Whatever. I watched Little House on the Prairie. Even Maa made cake. Still can’t figure out why she left her riches to live in poverty with Charles but perhaps she was previously married to a man who didn’t give her cake on her birthday. They leave out all the good parts. I think this calls for a McDonald’s biscuit. Yup.