Cake

Ask anyone who went to my college during the time I did what "cake" means to them (you've got to say it nice and short like "kek!") and they will all fondly remember a vendor who roamed the halls of the dorms in Pilani with a basket of baked goods on his head and yelled "kek" and when we had enough money we'd buy cream-filled rolls from him.

Evan likes cake too. When I woke up yesterday morning he said "Happy Birthday Daddy". Then he said "Happy Birthday Cake".

Jo and the kids got my birthday cake home. It was picked on the merit of it having an icing flower on it (by Vivian) and being flour-less (by Jo) - a sort of homonym ying and yang. Jo lit the candles and I had the kids on my lap and everyone sang. Then before Vivian or I could do anything Evan practically dove head first into the cake and blew out the candles. We re-lit the candles two more times for Vivian and me to blow out.

Everyone enjoyed the cake. My dad fed me and Jo a forkful of cake each. The kids waited expectantly for their turns but by then he had decided it was too good to give away.