It started with an innocent question. Months ago, Alexis batted her eyes and sweetly asked, "Can you make my birthday cake this year, Mindy?"
And with that, my dreams were shattered. WOE IS ME.
My friend Mindy, of course, agreed to do the short person's bidding because how do you say no to this face?
YOU DON'T.
But with that simple question, I was fired. Dismissed. Shoved to the back corner of the cabinet like a can of creamed corn.
Each and every year of Alexis' life I have sought to overachieve in the cake and cupcake department for her birthday. I go to ridiculous lengths to make a fantastic cake that far exceeds my abilities and a bunch of cupcakes that are LIKE WOAH. Here. Memory Lane. Feel free to walk along it.
But not this year. Because I was fired.
I pouted about the whole thing to Alexis a few weeks ago because I am, obviously, a mature adult who would never consider guilt tripping her own kid. Ahem.
"Alexis, I'm really sad I don't get to make your birthday cake this year," I told her a few days ago.
"Don't worry, momma. Mindy will do a better job than you anyway," she replied. LIKE A KNIFE TO THE HEART.
I know she was right, but still. STILL. Couldn't she have lied and said she didn't want to see me stress over it or something?
WHATEVER. I decided to embrace my newfound reduction in responsibilities. I poured my heart and soul into making food for the birthday party and began dreaming of the cupcakes I would make for Alexis to take to school.
And then she told me.
"Momma, I don't to take birthday treats to school," she told me.
"WHAT? WHAT DO YOU MEEEEEAN?" I replied.
"I don't want everyone to sing to me so I'm not going to take treats," she replied with a sad little look on her face.
So. No complicated cupcake plotting for me.
Unless one of you has a request. In that case, GAME ON.