Let them eat cake

Apparently I got old. I didn't think so, I wake feeling just as cramped and broken as I did when I was twenty- the benefit of living hard up until that point, but evidently I am. The signs are everywhere and when I'm not too preoccupied with how to pay the bills (a sign in and of itself) I can't help but get them shoved in my face. For example four months have gone by since my last entry- that's 1/3 or a year, impressed with my math skills? me too- and it felt like weeks. Also Cailyn turned 19 last month. Nineteen! Young people do not have 19 year old children. Add to this that Auburn graduates in May- that's 2, count them TWO adult children. This grown up children thing is snowballing- Rheannon turns 13 on Monday (Rowan 10 on Saturday) and Orion 15, old enough for a learner's permit, in July. Yes, there really is no denying it. I am old. I think I'm realizing that the thing that most ages me is the loss of joy in simple things. At some point I got the stupid idea that grownups take things seriously. Now why would anyone want to do that? I'm trying to rediscover the part of me that could laugh when something went awry. I got a perfect opportunity the day we celebrated Cailyn's birthday. I had baked a carrot cake and experimented by adding pineapple - it was delicious but too moist and more like a firm pudding than a cake. I decided not to serve it and Rheannon and I ran into town to dream up an alternative plan. We bought fruit and an anglefood cake. My plan was to skewer the fruit and stick the sticks in the cake- don't try this, the cake isn't strong enough. When that didn't work we moved to plan "C" and put a cup in the center to hold the skewers like a bouquet. It was beautiful. But years of sleep deprivation and early onset dementia conspired to make something obvious elude me- I actually decided to move the cake that way instead of taking the skewers out. Not my most brilliant decision. We rounded the first corner and the cake slid on the plate, Rheannon scrambled to stop it and the cup fell over tearing the side out and sending fruit-laden skewers every which direction. Hands flew from all corners of the car trying to stop the carnage. I almost yelled, but flashed on the many trips I took anxiously holding a cake in the back of a car and fearing for my life should it get messed up. So instead of yelling, I laughed. We all laughed, and laughed and laughed. We kept laughing when we tried to shove it back together for the party- we did a remarkable job, see if you can tell that it was in 4 pieces. Cailyn loved it and that was the point anyway. Right? Right! Cake is for eating! How's that for an epiphany?