November Fifth, Minus Funfetti

Yesterday was my twenty-ninth birthday and we celebrated with my in-laws at the summer cabin.  I opened some fabulous gifts and we ate the fish soup that Mama Swede made by special request.  My family here always go out of their way to make me feel at home, especially on my birthday, but the scene below proves that, as the only non-iPhone-owner, I'm still an outsider.  Yes, the three-year-old has one too.  Oh, wait!  Jamie is still holding out.  Stay strong with me, Jamie boy, stay strong.

You may be wondering where the Funfetti cake is.  Well, I had purchased the mix and the frosting when we were in Cleveland in September and was super pumped for my yearly fix, naturally.  But then, when we got to the airport to fly home, we made the terrible discovery that our luggage was too heavy.  Cake mix and frosting being the heaviest and cheapest of all of the magical things we bought in the States, I was forced to dump them in the Cleveland Hopkins Airport ticketing hall.  I couldn't bring myself to actually put them in the trash, though, and instead set them on the wide edge of a nearby garbage can and then went back to my open suitcase to dig out something else heavy and expendable (apple cider mix, if you must know, so that I could prove to the Swedes that cider is a warm, G-rated autumnal treat and not a cold malt beverage).  When I went back to the trash can a second time an elderly woman and her husband, who had apparently been watching the tragic scene unfold, asked in a thick eastern-European accent about the cake mix and frosting.  I told them, quickly, since The Swede was getting a rash on his eyeballs because of the whole affair, that it was the best thing they'd ever taste and insisted that they take it home with them, wherever that may be.  And they did.  So even though I wasn't able to enjoy a Funfetti cake on my birthday this year, I feel consoled by the fact that a little babushka somewhere on this continent got to experience the glory of Funfetti for the first time, and that her family now thinks she's an even better baker than she probably already was.  The End.