Kitty’s birthday party was on Saturday. It came together quite nicely, surprisingly. I had a lot of help, though. That probably made the difference. Thanks, helpers!
Last week the forecast showed rain for the day of the party, and I have to admit that I was sweating bullets. I invited over 60 people to this thing and I had no back up plan. There was no way to entertain 60 people inside my house. Why did I invite so many people you ask? Well, see… We’re Mormons. Thirty-four of those people were our relatives that live in Washington.
Anyway, the weather was perfect. The party was full of Kitty’s favorite things: Gourmet Five Buck Pizza, a bounce house, tractor rides around the yard (okay, it was actually lawn mower rides, but tractor sounds cooler), cupcakes, chips, friends, presents, and a 3 and a half foot long snake slithering across our driveway to greet our guests. Awesome, right?
I spent one entire day making 95 cupcakes. Something you should know about me is that I do not bake. Friends and family already know this. I can make a really tasty salad. I can assemble and warm up food fairly well. But, I cannot do anything that requires any sort of chemical reaction. Anything with baking powder or soda… anything that needs to rise, I have a phobia of these things. If a recipe calls for yeast, I am out.
However, my friend came by for some moral support, equipped with her ancient family recipes for butter cream frosting and a yummy marshmallow fondant that you actually want to eat.
In typical fashion, I tried to screw up the cupcakes a few times by adding too much water, too much vanilla, too much hair (don’t ask). And then after I’d spent hours blending and molding, I almost dumped an entire cookie sheet of cupcakes on the floor as I was putting them away. I really thought for a second that my friend was going to kick me in the throat.
After slaving in the kitchen all day, my feet and back were killing me. There was Crisco all over me and the entire kitchen. I proudly showed Mr. Darcy my confectionery marvels and he said, “That looks like pink dog turd.” What a sweetheart!
However, I can’t stay mad at someone who uses the word “turd”. It is not possible.
This boy beat Kitty to the punch when it was time to blow out the candle. She’s like, “What? What just happened?!?” I always forget to buy candles, so we had to improvise with a leftover Darth Vader candle from The Boy’s party last Fall. It’s our new birthday tradition. Usually I stick a lit match in the cake.
Thanks to everyone that came! We love youns guys.