Minion Cake

Monday

May302016

What's that? Mila's birthday is over? Oh. That's cute that anyone would think I would be done talking about it. We all know that I love to beat a good theme into the ground, and just because Mila isn't old enough to really care doesn't mean I'm going to stop.

EXCEPT SHE DID CARE. SO I RESPONDED APPROPRIATELY WITH ALL OF THE MINIONS.

And by "ALL OF THE MINIONS," I really mean "MINION CAKE!"

Why did no one tell me that fondant is easy to work with? I mean, it's basically edible Play-Doh. I can get firmly behind edible Play-Doh, even if I will always think cream cheese frosting is the bestest.

ANYWAY. The Minion cake was my first foray into fondant and it turned out to be time-consuming, but not difficult. I found a video to more or less follow and things worked out.

Actually, they more than worked out because Mila. Miss Mila spent her morning wandering between the kitchen and the dining room because there was a life-size Minion cutout in the dining room and I was in the kitchen. She was enthralled with the Minions in the dining room so she kept running to them to dance and to push them down.

Yes, I said "push them down." Mila had a whole thing going on in her head. It involved her saying, "No push, Mila!" right before she shoved them down to the floor. Then she would cackle with glee before saying, "Bad, Mila!" Lather, rinse, repeat. She told herself to not push them at least eleventy billion times and then pushed them down anyway every single time.

Long of the short, she knows when she's being a jerk. She just enjoys it muchly.

Between the pushing, Mila kept checking to see what I was doing. At first, it wasn't very interesting.

As time went on, it started to seem like it might turn into something interesting.

And then suddenly, it was everything. Mila pushed a chair to the counter, climbed up, and yelled, "IT'S A MINION!"

Do you know the relief that is someone recognizing a thing? Seriously. I breathed a huge sigh of relief because at least the 2 year-old knew what I was making. That had to be a sign that things were going well.

But then she crushed me. Mila studied the Minion and then said, "Where hair?" The look on her face was one of sadness and disappointment, so I HAD to put hair on the Minion.

Mila supervised.

When the hair was firmly implanted on the Minion's head, Mila applauded. Literally, SHE APPLAUDED. How's that for some serious appreciation?

And then she pushed me off of my high horse and started demanding "pretty." At first I thought she meant a pretty for her hair, but when I tried to oblige, the Tiny Human ripped my head off, fed it to some wolves, and then used it as a bowling ball. It was UGLY.

She meant a "pretty" for the Minion's hair. Which, OKAY!

When all was said and done, the Minion cake ended up on top of a regular cake, which was great because it meant I didn't have to let anyone eat the Minion. We cut into the regular cake and my little Minion went into the fridge.

She's staying there. I don't care who judges me, she's staying there because every time I open the fridge, I smile. It's really hard not to smile when greeted by a happy Minion.

As an extra special bonus, Mila knows the Minion is hiding in the fridge. She kept asking to see her all day. "Minion cake?" was her Memorial Day motto.

Each and every time I take Mila to the fridge to visit the Minion, I'm treated to a little, "Hi, Minion!"

So what I'm saying is that Mila has already figured out how to make sure I go nuts on her birthday every year. A little encouragement and gratitude goes a long way ...