I had what sort of qualifies as a family emergency this past weekend. I drove down to St. Louis, picked someone up and drove him to Minneapolis, all very spur of the moment. As in, I decided at 3 a.m. Thursday morning, slept for a few hours and then got up and left at 1 on Thursday. Anyway, I completed my mision and then spent a fantastic weekend with Mark, which was so nice. Now, I am once again seated upon my throne, directly under my portrait of Queen Victoria. I had a very festive homecoming, I have to say. After hugs were given to my boys and the really yummy root beer from Mark was passed around amidst cheers of glee, I was directed into the kitchen. There was whispering and nudging, the boys gave each other many Significant Looks, and before I got to the kitchen, #4 said,"I can't wait for you to see what we've done!"
Usually that would be a red flag which would fill me with dread, but after seeing that the kitchen was relatively clean and very tidy, I was puzzled, if a bit relieved. However, #4 turned to #3, and said, "You decorated it, you get to remove the cover!". #3 looked pleased but embarrassed, picked up a large pan containing an extremely thin cake, grabbed the sheet of aluminium foil and pulled it aside with a flourish.
This is what my cake said:
WELCO
ME HOME
WOW
I just had time to wonder why the "wow" on the bottom when the yelling began. Acrimonious shouts of "You wrote it wrong! You wrote 'WOW' instead of 'MOM'!" and, "You should have let me do the writing!" filled the air. Ah, some things never change.
