Last Tuesday, we got a cake for the boy's birthday. The cake was way too large for just two people, so by Wednesday I was asking Miles to give away pieces of the delectable stuff. He dismissed the idea and assured me that we would get through it all (hah, no kidding!?). It is now 5 days later and a single slice remains...I hear the sad chords of "one is the loneliest number" whenever I open the refrigerator door...OH THE TEMPTATION TO END ITS MISERY!

I've probably lost the label by now...but I could have sworn that the cake batter was described as marble...it seems pretty blue to me, though.

But, oh the poor lonesome slice of cake. How wretched! Miles and I were discussing the woebegone thing...how it would most likely drown in its sorrow. This would be unfortunate for it would most probably come to resemble a sponge cake and then have to deal with an identity crisis atop its feelings of rejection. There are few who appreciate the complexity of a cake such as we.

UPDATE:

Miles has taken care of the cake. It won't be sad any longer. I think the cake had a good life....and it always made us happy. It will be missed, but we're parting ways on happy memories.

The Cake
June 22, 2004 - June 27, 2004
Beloved Love-Handle-Nurturer and Celebratory Food

We seem to have a fussy car on our hands. I personally think it's a cry for help. Miles keeps it pretty mucked-up inside...but mechanics fail to see my logic. Several weeks ago, the temperature guage started spiking...Miles took it to a mechanic and they performed some sort of hose-ectomy and all was well.

A couple weeks after that, it was happening again! Miles dutifully took his baby back to his(he was out of town when it first happened) mechanic. They performed a radiator-cap-otomy or something of that delicate nature...and all was well.

Enter this past Tuesday.

Again...the car started sweating at a red light, so Miles made a dash over to the car physician...again. A fan wasn't working, and they did something-or-other to get it working properly (why yes, I am a car expert...how observant of you! I didn't want to brag...) and all was well.

So this morning, Miles gets on the road and things start heating up, if you know what I mean! So (well you get the picture—I'll just skip to the treatment)...they found an air bubble in some sort of hose and apparently that's not a desirable thing to have, so they did away with it (luckily the last 2 mechanic visits were free of charge). Now we're hoping that old boy keeps his cool from here on out. CHILL OUT, DUDE!

There's only a couple of days left until the boy's birthday. The big two-four—Wow. It seems like only yesterday he was turning 22...they grow up so fast—Of course, I can't afford for him to grow up any more.

My head serves as an armrest as it is—which is fine, I suppose—but I draw the line at seat cushion.

My aunt sent us a glorious batch of cookies—craisins and walnuts galore!—but I don't think the Southern air agrees with their Midwestern origins as they seem to evaporate into nothingness. Even more peculiar is the magnetic quality of the skin surrounding Miles' mouth to the wayward crumbs.

Maybe I can submit him to David Letterman for his "Stupid Human Tricks" bit.