Postcards from the edge

Failed the Birthday Cake Test. Again. Although it was only half my fault this time. I definitely ordered marble cake, but recieved white cake. But I am heartily sorry for forgetting to mention that the hot pink trim needed to whipped cream frosting and not buttercream. Most definitley NEVER buttercream. On the upside, I'm sending the S/O back to demand a gratis cake, this time MARBLE. So we can do this all again next weekend, when child #3 come to babysit the small children while we go out for our "anniversary." Maybe we'll beg for mercy at the all you can eat Brazilian beef place and they'll let us stay as indentured servants.

Awakened from slumber this morning by child #4 (soccer games today, concurrent ones) and dragged myself out of bed, creaking. Child #4 happily offers, "Look on the bright side, you only have to do this for 30 more years!" Didn't have the heart to tell him that as this rate I WON'T LIVE THAT LONG. In fact, next weekend is looking iffy.

Bonus thought: Do you ever think The Edge walks up behind Bono, slaps him really hard on the back of the head and says, "I love you, man, but do you have to be such a pretentious git?"