The Tuesday Night Post

*Attention.  If you are my dad, then do not, I repeat, do not read any further.*

*I mean it.  It is in regards to your birthday.*

* I know you are tempted, Dad.  Just walk away.*

Hello, people.  I feel as if there should be a law against husbands coming home late.

And that is all I have to say about that.

My husband walked in the door tonight.  Two children were doing who-knows-what with dolls.  One child was naked (guess who).  The final child (guess who) was weeping and wailing and waiting in a time out for his father to come "talk" to him.

I smiled, informed him that his dinner was in the fridge, grabbed the dog, and wished him the best of luck.

I was leaving.

My options are limited, you see, as to where I can go.  I decided to head down the road.

Exciting.  I know.

But I did see at least 30 deer.  And Lucy (the dog) was angelic, I kid you not.  I decided I love her and I shall be her bestest pal forever and ever.  So long as she continues to be a dear and not give me grief.

I put on my music from my fancy phone and enjoyed the last 30 minutes of daylight and the absense of children and dishes and laundry and peach walls and school work and creepy deer heads staring at me and crumbs on the counter and trucks and random socks strewn about.

Am I the only person in the world who has numerous socks all over the house?

And I learned something on this walk, dear readers.

Ruralville+me+no one else+almost dark+trees+crackling+rustling+five deer running in front of me=creepy.

It did not help that Lucy seemed nervous the entire time.  It made me wonder, if I were to be mauled by some horrific animal on my adventurous walk, would Lucy be a heroine and run home and inform David?

I don't know.  She doesn't seem that smart.

And would David figure out her message?

And now I am wondering if I need more adult company in my life.

Yes.  I think I do.

Consider this a cry for help. 

I will have you all know that I did, in fact, wear my uber cute earrings on my terrifying walk.  If I was going to be viciously attacked, at least I would go out in style.

I may live in redneck-ville, but I sure don't have to look like I do.

Take that, Ruralville.

What on earth is the point of all of this drivel?

Let's move on.

My dad!

It is my dad's birthday soon.  He is kinda sorta a Titanic fanatic. 

Things like disasters, assassinations and politics excite him.

I like earrings, popcorn, and The Big Bang Theory.

Fun Fact:  My dad was born on April 14th.  Same day the Titanic hit the ice berg.

And don't say I never taught you nothing.

So, Sweet Pea, in all her learned-ness has also become intrigued by the Titanic.  So she decided she would like to make her PopPop a surprise Titanic cake.

This means I will be making him a surprise Titanic cake.

I am sure you can all guess how well prepared I am to make such a cake. 

If nothing else, it might make for a good blog post.

Anyways.  Is there anyone out there with a creative bone in their body that can help a clueless gal, such as myself?

Here are some things you need to know:

1)  I really have no time for this.

2)  He wants a carrot cake with cream cheese frosting.

3)  The recipe says to bake the bake in two round pans.  Therefore the cake shall be round.  No ifs, ands or buts.  I do not deter from recipes.  I shall stand firm in this belief.  Unless you tell me how to convert the recipe to a 13x9 pan.  And I shall double love you forever.

4)  I shall not be purchasing any fancy schmancy cake pans.

5)  Do not even mention fondant.  I know not what fondant is.  Nor do I want to. 

6)  My kids are naughty.

7)  I am almost out of flour.

8)  I once made an "Elmo" cake for Sweet Pea's birthday.  It was to have red, coconut frosting and be magical and wonderful and all peoples would rise and call me blessed.  It ended up looking like Elmo threw up something pink all over himself.  It resulted in David running to the store to purchase a cake. 

 No one rose and no one called me blessed. 

 And I was out a lot of money.

9)  I would prefer to stay away from red, coconut frosting.  I am convinced that red is a frosting color that simply cannot be achieved by anyone.

10)  I am super open to all ideas and would appreciate any help.

And, that is all.

Good day to you.

PS- 100 (meaningless) points to anyone who can guess what we shall be doing for the patriarch's birthday.

Hint:  Think coldness, trees, and bad hair.