the underwear drawer

let me eat cake

I didn't have many specific cravings while I was pregnant, but ever since Cal was born, I've been obsessed with cake. CAKE. Could there be anything more delectable? Great big slabs of cake with vanilla frosting. In my belly. Taste the deliciousness.

I think this cake obsession can be owed to Joe's mom, who made a great big chocolate chip orange zest cake for us when they came to visit two weeks ago. The cake wasn't originally meant to be frosted, but it kind of fell apart when attempts were made to extricate it from the Bundt pan, so last minute repairs were made with two tubs of vanilla frosting to "glue" the top of cake back on.

Maybe I was at an impressionable point, but I think this was maybe the best cake I've ever eaten in my life.

Since then, I've been obsessed with cake. I have a box of yellow cake mix in the kitchen that's ready to go whenever I summon the proper motivation to actually bake, but an Entenmann's All-Butter Loaf with frosting on it was a good stopgap measure. But now the All-Butter Loaf has been consumed, and I'm at a decision point. Should I get another Loaf at the supermarket and take the lazy way out, or should I actually bake with the cake mix that I already have? (Yes, it's sad that the instant cake mix is the harder of the two options. But it entails eggs and the greasing of pans and the oven and everything.)

Forgoing cake is not an option here. You do not understand. Cake, it is just so, so good. Call it the breastfeeding hungries, call it postpartum psychosis, whatever. I must have my cake and eat it too.

Currently reading: "Needful Things." Even though he's getting unbearably folksy as of late, Stephen King is a good go-to guy when you're biding your time until the next new book. My copy is so old that the cover just fell off.