The wedding cake from you-know-where

When my friend asked me to make his wedding cake I was wondering what he'd been really drinking out of his water bottle.  I consider myself very amateur when it comes to baking and decorating.  It's just a hobby and a way of expressing a certain amount of my creativity.  He explained that he wanted just a single tier for them to cut in to.  Beneath it would be cupcakes for their guests.  I nervously agreed.  Yesterday I gathered all of my things and drove to my mom's house to bake.  Andrea needed a nap and was already fussy when I arrived.

Aunt Jelly took the cranky little darling and rocked her nearly to sleep and then laid her in the wooden chest in the living room.  I began baking and Janell went downstairs to take a nap of her own.  Before long the cakes were cooling, the frosting was mixed and the filling was waiting to be sandwiched between the chocolate sponge.  But Andrea was hungry and beginning to fuss.  With Janell still asleep and no one else to assist me I started to panic.  If I fed her then the cooling cake might dry out, but if I covered it the condensation would make it soggy.  I could not send my friend a dry or soggy wedding cake.  Although the cake was still a little warm and had a few minutes of resting time to go, my mommy instincts to feed my child kicked in and I decided not to wait.  That cake needed put together before Andrea was hysterical so it would be moist for the wedding.

This was the result of my haste. . . the cake split in two and collapsed.  I nearly fainted.  Thankfully, my younger sister arrived home from junior high and distracted Andrea while I attempted to fix the disaster I'd created.

But the cake just kept falling and bulging and melting and driving me nuts!  After much bloodshed and almost tears, I came to the conclusion that I would have to start over which required a trip to the store.  Defeated, I fed the baby and headed to Macey's to replenish my supplies.

I was frustrated, embarrassed, and expending all my energy trying not to cry.  Literally covered from head to toe with powdered sugar I remixed a cake, filling, and frosting with the aid of my angel sister who took turns babysitting and chef-ing so I'd finish cake number two before midnight.

The evening wore on, Andrea wanted to go to bed and was nearly inconsolable.  I arranged all the flowers I'd made the week before atop the white fondant.

The wedding colors were black, white, and red, and the theme was paisley.  I attempted to recreate a flowered paisley but was a little short on flowers.  Had it not been so late and if Andrea were a little more cooperative and if I hadn't already made and ruined cake number one, I may have made some more flowers.  But I was out of strength and willpower, and my back hurt.  So I called it good, scooped my poop in a group, and sluggishly drove home.

This morning my friends brother picked the cake up and I walked down into my apartment feeling such foreboding.  This was a wedding cake that would be immortalized in reception photos.  And I think I could have done better.

I just hope he and his gorgeous fiance like it.

It'll taste good at least.