A couple of days ago, I placed an order for a Thomas the Tank Engine ice cream cake at Baskin Robbins. The "Thomas" theme was for obvious reasons, and the ice cream cake was because Cal is allergic to eggs, which we discovered subsequent to his previous encounter with homemade birthday cake, after which he promptly broke out in hives. Nice one. Mom of the year.
The morning of the party, I went to pick up the cake. What they brought out for us was this:
Which was...not Thomas. However, ultimately acceptable, as it did still involve vehicles, including one of Cal's favorites, a back hoe, which he calls, to somewhat amusing effect, a "crack ho." And it already had his name written on it and everything. So I didn't even say anything to them about the fact that the cake was totally different from the one that I had ordered, for which I had written documentation and for which I had paid many dollars. This is called "choosing your battles." Also possibly known as being spineless. Anyway, Cal seemed to like it all right.
So yes, my child is now two years old. I can't even believe it. Why, it seems like only yesterday that he was a symbiant leeching nutrients from my body. Now he's a MAN. A lecherous man.