take the cake.

If you're needing a laugh, here it is.

Noel's sister (one of 9) is getting married Saturday.  She's marrying one of my past students from the Saccanville Evangelical English Program (SEEP) I taught before Sofie was born.

Because I am the only woman in Saccanville with an oven,  everyone knows I NEVER say NO,  Eloude knew I would never charge her... I love Noel, I agreed to make the wedding cake (I could easily whip up a nice white 9x13, right?) and make copies of the programs (2 minutes at the Seminary).

What in the world was I thinking.

So, at 5 pm last night, right as I started dinner for my family, Noel showed up, and said, "I am here to help you make the cake."  

Right before supper is not the girls' best time.  They're getting hungry, Matt had just walked in the door, noodles were on the stove.  But if I told Noel I'd do it in a few hours, she would have sat and waited.  So, I knew it was best to get this thing done.

Lily, Noel and I jumped in, all the while I'm trying to finish dinner and eventually got Matt and Sofie eating in the other room.  Lily, Noel and I ate from the pot and pulled out the butter, sugar, flour. 

Noel had never seen a recipe.  Never used an oven.  Never used a measuring cup.  Never made a cake.  Lily was showing her what to do, and helping her translate the ingredients.  This could be fun, right.

Eloude told me a few days after I had agreed what was important to her.  Taste?  No way.  No one would be eating this cake.  This is about show.  Height?  Of the utmost importance.  Very very tall.  Color?  Must be green.  Decoration? As gaudy as possible.

OK.

I, of course, was born void of the my mother and sister's cake maker gene, and even if I had it, don't have much to work with.  I have a 9x13, a 9x9, and a loaf pan.  And the cake must be as tall as possible.  Eloude shows me how tall by flinging her arms above her head.

So we make all three, figuring that somehow we'll stack it up.

Just as the first cake goes in, Noel's sister knocks at the door. Noel's sisters.  Noel's sisters and her friends.  Total: 8 women.

"Oh, hi..." I say, just as Lily accidentally puts the mixer on full blast, puffing flour EVERYWHERE.

They quickly push past me and beeline for the kitchen, and for the next hour, I have NEVER felt more the foreigner.  Literally, the women gathered chairs, and sat in my kitchen, as close to the action as possible, and watched.  With commentary.

"Selling tickets?" Matt asked amused upon sweeping off Sofie and Lily (who doesn't like public spectator events) to the bedroom to HIDE.  Errr. 

Trying hard to ignore all the staring bodies in my kitchen, we finished the three cakes, stepping around everyone, and the women turned their conversation to the "cake foot"...which I'm realizing is the cake stand, which I quickly learn I am also to be making.  

"High, very high!" 
"The taller, the better."
"We could stack her bowls one on top of the other, and then balance the cake on top."
"Look through her cabinets and see if there is anything else we could use!"
"She could wrap a bunch of boxes and stack them all on top of each other."

Since they are all referring to me in third person at this point, I try to pretend I'm not listening.  Because I'm sorry.  This cake ain't gonna balance on 6 bowls.  

The three cakes were finally finished and cooling, I'm washing and putting away dishes, and 18 eyes are watching my every move.  Upon putting away the sugar, one sister spies Lily's dear Pringles.

"OOOOOOOO!  That can is perfect.  We could balance the cake on that!  OOOOOO, look!"

Everyone quickly gets very excited.

"LOOK!" another woman I have NEVER seen exclaims, diving over my head and opening my pantry, digging around.

"She has TWO!  We could fill them with water to make them heavy, and then put the cake on top."

I am sure at this point that all you could read on my face was "You MUST be kidding me."

"Maybe rocks would be better?  She could fill them with rocks" quips Noel.  

uh, yeah.

"OK"  I finally say, hearing the girls getting ready for bed and wanting everyone OUT and realizing everyone fully intends to stay all night and watch/critique me stack and ice the cakes.

"These must be very, very cool before I can ice them, so I'm going to ice them tomorrow, and stack them tomorrow.  So, I will empty these chip cans, and you can wrap them in pretty paper, if you want."

"Oh no!" the eldest exclaims.  "These cans are already very beautiful.  They don't need wrapped!"

I look at the smiling Pringle's man on the mismatched cans.

"Oooo, K.  Sound good."

"No," says Noel.  "They should be wrapped, to match."

"Ok, well, here is some wrapping paper.  You guys can take them."

"Oh no," says Eloude.  "We can't wrap like you can.  You can wrap them very nicely."

And Mrs. Sexy-can't-say-no: "OK.  So I'll wrap the Pringles cans, stack and ice the cake, and you need 50 copies of the program?"

"Yes," says Eloude, handing me a scrap of notebook paper with French scrawled on it. 

"You want 50 copies of this?" I ask, quickly realizing what is happening here.

"Oh, NO!  I want you to make this into a beautiful program with lots of pictures, especially of brides and grooms, and here is the information, and make sure to write out all the words to the hymns, and can they please be in color?"

"Eloude, friend, I do not have time to do all of that!"

Blank stare.  8 Blank Stares.  Silence.  More staring.

"I guess I will find the time," I finally say.

And my patience is out.  

Following custom, I know the ladies will not leave until I invite them to leave, and as much as I HATE doing this, at this point, I'm ready.

"OK!" I say cheerily, walking to the front door. "I'm done for tonight.  Thank you for coming!  I'll see you Saturday morning when you come to get the cake before the wedding!" 

"Oh no!" Eloude says for the 10th time, gathering her sisters and friends and heading for the door.  "We'll be back tomorrow to watch you ice it."

SHUDDER.

There is only one thing to do.  

I do bath time and story time and get the girls down, clean up the kitchen, and at 10:30 pm last night, you would have found me icing a wedding cake.  Green.  After stacking a 9x9 on a 9x13 and a loaf pan cake plopped on top.

Matt, of course, can't stop laughing.  "I can't BELIEVE you are icing a wedding cake green right now.  This is hilarious!  When in the WORLD will you learn to say no?  Why didn't you just give her $100 bucks and wish her well!"  

At this point, I'm wondering why I didn't give her FIVE hundred bucks and wish her well.

It may have been hilarious, but if I had to stay up all night long icing that monstrosity by my lonesome, I'd prefer it over a public icing later!

I iced that baby, made it as gaudy as I could with as many green swirls and hearts at possible, shoved the quite uneven leprechaun cake in the fridge, wrapped those Pringles cans in wrapping paper, got on Word, created a dove-infested program, and made 50 copies this morning at the Seminary before anyone could request any changes.  It was the first time that Matt's Lord of the Rings disc 2 was not actually long enough :)

When the troop shows up today to "help", they will be disappointed to find everything finished.

I think I can live with that.

Almost the same thing as saying "no"...but not quite :)



I'll get you a picture of the final shamrock tower...