There’s lots to think about when you’re getting read to have a baby. You have to think of names, parenting techniques, tons of doctor stuff, etc. But more importantly, you have to think about cake.
Cake is the universal way we express that something is happening. Whatever occasion, anytime, anywhere, there’s usually cake involved. So as soon as we decided to tell people about this baby, my wife and her mom were full speed towards the kitchen to make/bake/decorate a cake as fast as possible to bring over to Grandma’s.
Our original due date was Nov. 6th, 2014, the day before my birthday. Ashlee and her mom whipped up a cake that was half blue and half pink since we didn’t know the sex of the baby at the time we were telling people. We hopped in a car and drove out to Grandma’s, about an hour away, and walked in with the cake (covered) and put in on her kitchen table to reveal the big surprise to her and some other relatives.
Ashlee said, “We have a surprise!” and removed the lid, showing the cake in the direction of Gram and friends. I stood next to her, grinning like an idiot:
Everyone looked puzzled. Aunts wrinkled their brows in wonder. Grandma tried to figure out the sweet treat in deep thought. We stood there going “Eh? Eh?” like they should have gotten it immediately.
Then Grandma spoke up.
“Is it a…9-11 Cake?”
Our jaws dropped. What? How could it be a…oh.
We were holding it upside down.
Our beautiful, decorated, seemingly innocent birth announcement cake took a terroristic turn in the form of a cake celebrating our nation’s biggest tragedy. Upside down, the 11-6 due date definitely read 9-11. The star sprinkles didn’t help, matching perfectly with the duller colors of blue and pink to make a quick image of an American flag. And, the two rectangle shapes formed the image of the Twin Towers on their sides. Yikes.
After careful examination, how could this NOT be a cake celebrating the remembrance of 9-11? In March. For…some reason.
We quickly turned the cake around, explained it was a due date, and everyone applauded. Everyone forgot about the cake’s weird first acknowledgement and we celebrated by eating the entire thing.
Doesn’t my Grandpa look like Anthony Hopkins? I think so.
In the end, everything was well, and a great cake was chowed. In a brash cake reveal, we made a mistake that turned into a funny memory, a memory that most of us will “never forget.”