There were four main areas I wanted to touch on:
- I, rightfully, get made fun of for forgetting stuff.
- A cake ball tower is not a good substitute for a birthday cake.
- Laser tag is cool despite what the 12-year-old you are shooting says.
- Karaoke is best kept in a bar.
Needless to say, I was shocked. "No, I do not forget stuff!" Moments later, as I was starting my car to leave, I stopped and walked back into the house because I forgot my phone. But I couldn't remember where I left it.
Finally, I was able to get in my car and drive away. Until I remembered the cake pans I needed for my sister's birthday cake.
Oh the shame.
So there I go with my cake pans and a recipe in mind for a homemade chocolate cake with a chocolate ganache icing. All she wanted was a Betty Crocker version, but for my sissy I go above and beyond. However, "beyond" ended up sticking to the bottom of the pan and I was left with two lopsided halfsies and lots of broken chunks.
Luckily, my baking skeelz are top notch (more like middle notch), so I turned to Plan B: chocolate cake balls. I ran out for a block of cream cheese (and milk because I forgot it the last time I was at the store and Corey desperately needed to make a milkshake. at noon. in the middle of winter) and began the transformation.
Problem: the girl was expecting a cake. One solid mass that she could cut into and eat with a fork.
Solution: stack all those cake balls and make a gooey, cohesive cake ball tower.
Result: "Mom, can you make my cake next year??"
Whatevs. The "cake" was awesome.
Now, it was not the birthday girl's idea to force everyone to play laser tag (as I do on my day with mini golf). It was my dad's. And there was very little convincing on my part:
"So I thought on Katie's birthday we would play laser..."
We played two rounds, and if Corey hadn't thrown out my scorecards I would have shown you my first and second place finishes. My codename was WildStar and I played to win. My mom's codename, on the other hand, was Sloth and she came in almost last. I think she might have felt bad shooting little kids. You know, as a mom. I did not. Because they had no problem stalking me and hiding in small spaces.
So I shot 'em.
And I crawled in small spaces.
And then I did that thing where I roll around on the ground to avoid gun fire.
No I didn't.
But I did shriek a lot.
And I asked everyone flashing my team color (green) if they were one of my sisters.
See, it's dark in there. And I get a tad freaked out in the dark. Especially when one particular round had only 12 players and I found myself wandering around, seeing not a single soul, wondering if the game was actually over and I was trapped inside with a serial killer.
No more Criminal Minds for this girl. Or American Justice.
But I survived. I lived to gloat about beating every single one of 'em.
So after all the birthday festivities (the dinner, the cake, the laser tag, the presents) everyone is tired. It was, after all, 8:00pm, just one hour from my own bedtime. However, the day would not be officially over until the fat lady sang.
The figurative fat lady being me and my sisters, the only brave ones to try my new Wii karaoke game. Pumped up on chocolate ganache we each sang two songs and I can honestly say for certain that not a single one of us was given the gift of song.
We cannot carry a tune if the gold medal of karaoke depended on it. Which it did.
But as I entered my sugar coma all that mattered was watching Katie's idea of what the dance moves should be while singing:
"If you want my body aaaaand you think I'm sexy come on baby let me knooooow..."
Wait a second, this was supposed to be a Weekend update. Where's Sunday's news??
Um, ok. Sunday: went to church, lunch with friends, slept in chair while watching Lifetime movies.