My daughter turned 12 on April 18th. We, of course, had cake and parties and festivities. It was all lovely. As with most birthdays, there was cake left over. There was a small wedge piece left over from one of her birthday cakes. (Yes, I said one of her cakes. She ended up with two this year. One on her actually birthday, because it’s not really your birthday if you don’t have cake. And one on the day of her party the following weekend. I love baking and who doesn’t love cake!) Anyhoo…. I shoved the leftover wedge piece of cake and the box into the garage fridge. We had the party, life got crazy busy, and the cake was forgotten.
Three days ago, I was cleaning up in the garage and opened that fridge to see what could be pitched. Hello old cake! Goodbye old cake! In it went, box and all, into the trash can for curbside pick up later this week.
Cut to last night. After doing a little weeding and watering the flowers and garden, I pulled out the trash cans to haul to the curb in the morning. I went around to the back of house to grab something, and, as I come around the corner, I found my darling son with lips and fingers smeared with frosting.
“Trystan! That cake is a month old AND I pulled it out of the fridge three days ago!”
“I was just trying it.”
Sure, just trying it. Just trying month old, rotten cake to see what food poisoning is like. My guess… it will be like a belated birthday present you don’t want and can’t return!