Stinky Eggs and China Dolls

For a contest...

I’ve come to the conclusion that birthdays are absolutely stinky occasions. And I don’t just mean that they stink—as in they aren’t good—but that they actually stink—as in smell. I discovered this on my last birthday, about two months ago. See, I had been extremely excited about turning fifteen, but it turned out to be a…well…stinky event.

    First off, my mom forgot to order a cake. Now this might not have been a problem if she could actually make the cake herself. My mom doesn’t cook the best, but….Let me be blunt: she can’t cook a single thing without singing it, turning it into a rock, or something else of that nature. Mom is a pretty good problem solver, however, and she decided to ask our Hispanic neighbor, who cooks delicious desserts, to bake my birthday cake. This brought along a new issue: the woman only speaks Spanish. Normally we speak to her using her son as a translator, but he was at school when Mom requested our dear neighbor’s help. Thus, the end result was a peanut butter cake with strawberry icing. It did taste somewhat like a PB&J, but I had wanted a chocolate cake with chocolate icing.

     The next mishap took place when Dad invited our family, instead of my friends. We ended up with his mom and dad, my maternal grandparents, and practically all of the aunts, uncles, cousins, nephews, and nieces that we have. It wasn’t what I had wanted, but when they had said, “Let us handle it,” they really meant that they would handle it. The party turned out to be more like a family reunion, and most of the people didn’t even bring a gift or card.

     I tried to put all of this behind me. I pictured the cake as a luxurious chocolate dessert with oozing ribbons of caramel. I imagined the guests to be my friends from school—who ended up being upset that they hadn’t been invited. And last, but not least, I tried to create the best gifts possible in my mind.

     In reality, I was given a china doll by my grandparents, who apparently had forgotten I was fifteen, and a jump rope by Grandpa George, who believed everyone should exercise an hour a day. The twin cousins gave me some sort of odd shaped sock/doll thing, which they said was named Alicia. The worst part was when Aunt Jane—the poor dear—gave me a set of pink, polka-dot underwear.

     So this was how my fifteenth birthday ended. Mom did set the kitchen on fire with her rock-hard, cheesy “surprise.” And one of the cousins decided that the lawn mower should be started, even though he hadn’t a single clue on how to control it. But I love my family, and what can I do? I didn’t choose to be born here, so I guess I must take it as it is. I’m thinking next year I should make sure that I plan the party, since sixteenth birthdays are special occasions. But, I’ll probably end up with sauerkraut filled cupcakes and blue-striped long johns.

Reviews

[jen -- JG]

An easy reading conversational story that is as endearing as it is humorous, touching on the disappointment a fifteen year old would feel when her birthday plans go so astray but also showing the deep love she has for her family.

A lovely little story, well written and worth reading.

Thank you

jen-JG

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Really enjoyable. You did an excellent job endearing my to family through a sweet description of their quirky behavior. I might cut the last, "moral of the story," paragraph. Sauerkraut Cupcakes are such a sweet funny high note that it seems a natural place to leave us. Nice work!

[Jamie Fantasy]

I love my family and wouldn't trade them for the world. It's not uncommon to find us talking about porn over dinner in the middle of a crowded restaurant. Most people would be horrified but that's just us, for better or worse. :)

[Damian Alan Gray]

First of all, Elise, thanks for entering the Burnt at the Cake contest. Secondly, I'm right there with you when you say that we don't have much of a choice in the matter, but for better or worse, they are family. I think it's a test of our wit to continue laughing, while being thoroughly convinced that we have been adopted into this strange fold, because these people can't possibly be part of our own flesh and blood.
Anyway, nice story and thanks again!