Saturday, July 01, 2006

Happy Canada Day! (aka..Where's my cake?!)

Happy Canada Day!

There was a miscommunication last night. Apparently I thought that "oh I guess not" meant that Kevin did NOT want to attend the town Canada Day parade. So I didn't wake him up early this morning. Imagine my suprise when he shows up at my elbow, begging to go. I say it's far to late now, and his chin quivers. Okay fine, I caved. Luckily we made it just in time, even though I had to park waaaaay up a hill far from the action and we had to hike down.

The parade was great, mind you. Your usual small town deal with floats, fancy cars, various clubs and organizations, and of course...candy. Kids dove like scavengers to snap up the bits of sugar thrown their way.Anyhow, it was fun. And for a little while, I thought we had bypassed the "cake" incident.

You see, when Kevin was two we had a foster child who was in cadets. One Canada Day he was supposed to be at the ceremonies at a down town park to help hand guessed it...cake. White, styrofoam like cake with that sugary sweet petroleum product type icing. A cake so huge that it looked like it had been delivered on a flat bed truck. We stood around, endured all the speeches and boring parts of the ceremony, had a piece of cake, and went home. Did I mention I don't even really like cake, and neither does Kevin? Especially the cheap, grocery store cake that is more icing then cake? Kevin never forgot the cake.

It's one thing to praise a child because they have a good memory. However that incredible memory can literally drive you mad if you don't be careful. One mistake and that kid will never, ever, let you forget it.

Every year after, he has asked "where are we getting cake?". Every. single. year. Wouldn't luck have it that the original community never served cake again. Neither did the next one. Every year, he'd ask for cake, we'd explain it was a one time thing, and he'd say, "ya but, we need cake." The whole cake thing has become a bit of a pain. No matter what I do, the child who isn't even that fond of cake, insists that somewhere in our province, Canada Day cake is being served and we must have some.

So we are driving home from the parade, and what do you think he says?"Why didn't we stay for cake? My friend's grandma said that they do have it here and I want some! "

Did I cave? Did I agree to dive back into the throngs of people in the scorching heat to secure a piece of cake that none of us even like, just to make him happy?


I talked him into chocolate ice cream. And made plans to make a cake next year (recipe here) so he'll finally leave me alone.

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