All I Wanted Was Some Cake!

Seriously. I don't have a sweet tooth per se, but a bittersweet sense of nostalgia seems to accompany autumn every year, and now that my universe revolves around a 7-year old (as well as a man, 2 dogs, and 12 chickens...oh and me) I have been thinking about my parents a lot. My mom worked (still does!) full time, and somehow managed to raise 3 kids while making everything from scratch. Everything! (remind me to tell you about not knowing what an Oreo was upon entering kindergarten. Thanks mom!) And she managed to make good stuff. As in tasty.

And every year for my Dad's birthday, she would make a pineapple upside down cake. My Dad's birthday is on St Patrick's Day, so why it comes to mind along with all the autumnal reflection makes no sense, but it didn't seem to matter. I have been craving a pineapple upside down cake.

On one of my days off from work, when I was all alone at the 'house' (my days off RARELY coincide with the boys' days off - it's a sensitive subject thankyouverymuch), I decided to 1) insulate the new space, and 2) make a damn pineapple upside down cake.

Oh. You noticed the lack of photos in this post? Keep reading.

I made the cake, and went and picked up the spawn from daycare while it was cooling in the pan. Then I flipped it out and put it on the table in the airstream while I went to insulate the other space.The perfectly candied pineapple slices nestled in their gooey goodness atop their spongy thrown glistened and beckoned in the afternoon golden autumn light...


We both went inside a while later - him to do homework, and myself to do the dishes. While doing the dishes, I popped outside to the fridge for THIRTY (ok, maybe 45) SECONDS to put something away, leaving the screen door open behind me. I came back inside and the little spawn looked TERRIFIED. Not "the Bogey man just came in and threatened to throttle me I'm gonna pee in my pants" scared, but "holy shit the hippie's gonna kill me" scared. I looked at the table. And I saw it.

A plate with a prefect ring of pineapple slices on it. Sans. Much. Awaited. Cake....

The spawn had been in his own little world (he has an extremely active imagination). I hadn't noticed in my putting things away in the fridge. The Waddle Brigade had descended upon the camper, eaten every crumb of the cake part, and left. We hadn't even noticed. Not only that, but nothing was misplaced. Not a crumb or a speck of anything out of the ordinary anywhere. And chickens (mine, anyway) are super messy eaters. I have CIA level covert chickens.


I still love them, but dammit I wanted that cake!