Twas my birthday this past Sunday, and lo and behold, the heavens presented me with not one, but TWO birthday cakes! And if you've met me before, you'll know I love cake. I wuff cake!
That's the second year in a row that I've ended up with two cakes in a day for my birthday. Does that make it a tradition now? I hope it does, it's an awesome tradition!
It was supposed to be a surprise but The Man let it slip the day before that she was making me a cake, so I had to put my 'oh, what a surprise!' face on.
It weighed as much as a new-born baby and I just had the last slice for breakfast. Is that why my tummy hurts now?
For your consideration - I had two helpings of cake-age. That's how tuff I am. Don't mess, mofo.
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