Toenails, Tulle and Princess Movies

"Check your 'effing messages."

This terse little missive from Wifey landed around 1pm on Friday.  The two places that I do not have cell reception are at home and in my office, which as you might imagine, can be problematic if you're the one trying to get in touch with me.

I checked my messages immediately with visions of my child as roadkill dancing in my head.  Knowing that this would be my first reaction, Wifey considerately prefaced her message with, "Everything is ok...."  Ok, except that one of her toenails was currently perpendicular with her foot.  Ouch!!!

To make matters worse, this wasn't just an average Friday to be in excruciating pain.  It was a Friday in which Wifey was supposed to make a room look like a cloud (don't ask), I was preparing for a wedding shoot on Sunday and we had plans to spend two nights at a friend's house in the country.  What were we thinking???

Obviously we are not completely sane, because Wifey continued to work - climbing ladders, moving furniture, and I raced home to pick up the Kid and pack the car for our trip.  I won't leave you in suspense, the trip didn't happen.  Instead, I took Wifey to the doctor and then we ate Indian food while watching back-to-back episodes of the Winx Club.   

Yes, these are the wonderful ladies of the Winx Club to the right.  With Wifey out of commission, I had to help with some of the last minute details of the cloud birthday party for the eleven year-old at her work.  (She works for rich folks, manages their staff, calendars, properties, events,....and cloud rooms.)  While I picked out princess movies for the party, the Kid picked out the Winx.  I really should have looked at the box more carefully because if you can't tell, the Winx are, well, kind of hooch.

The next day, Saturday, we had to head to IKEA to pick up one last white rug to complete the floor of the cloud room.  As terrible as IKEA on a Saturday sounds, it wasn't nearly as bad as Wifey realizing that she had forgotten to order the cake.

Of course, it had to be a specific cake - vanilla, chocolate filling and white GROCERY STORE frosting. One thing that you have to understand about Wifey is that she is a foodie.  No, a FOODIE.  To her grocery store cake and frosting is simply gross.  The subtle differences between buttercream and whipped cream do not register.  Gross.  All of it, gross.

Luckily, grocery store cake is pretty easy to come by.  We headed out to the nearest Lucky and Wifey hobbled into the store (don't forget the toe!) and came out with a cake.  Vanilla cake, no chocolate filling, but white frosting.  She got into the car and we both stared at the cake.  Was it really the right frosting?

We sat in the parking lot going back and forth for at least 10 minutes.  We opened up the cake box and sampled a little frosting from the bottom.  I tried to explain the subtle difference between the awful, fluffy, whipped cream nonsense, and the awesomeness of stiff, sugary frosting.  Which was the kind that old people liked?  Which would an 11 year-old like?  We drove around.  We fretted.  We hemmed.  We hawed. We went back to the store.

This time I, being the expert on all things low-brow and sugar, went in.  I examined the cakes.  I hemmed.  I hawed.  I wondered why I was in a Lucky on a Saturday hemming and hawing.

Buttercream.  It had to be buttercream.  Final answer. I went to the case so excited to finally be done with the whole process, but of course there was.no 1/2 sheet vanilla cake with white buttercream frosting.  F*CK ME!!!

After a quick conference with Wifey, we opted for a 1/4 sheet of vanilla cake and a 1/4 sheet of chocolate - both with buttercream.  F*ck up?  No way!  Just making sure that all of the guests would be satisfied.

But what of the other cake you ask?

I don't know that there is anything more satisfying than digging into a sheet cake with nothing but a fork.  

By the way, it was TOTALLY the gross kind of frosting!

Trying to accept the fact that life sometimes gets in the way,
Elsie