Last night was the final night of the eight days of Sweetheart G's ninth birthday.
But before I get into the official Birthday Dinner, I have to tell you about my dream last night.
('Cause really, after the photo of the cake, isn't anything else I say going to sound like "blah, blah, blah"?)
So last night, I had this dream.
I was shopping at the market.
I kept seeing all of these people I know from the neighborhood.
We were pushing our carts, nodding to each other as we passed, maybe calling each other by name, and then I noticed that all of them..
all of them
had filled their carts with beauty products. Face cream, cellulite gel, body lotion, box after box of make up.
And me? My cart was filled with food. Lots of food.
Then I started to feel self conscious of my food, and my obviously shameless display of calorie content and nutrition over moisturizer and anti-aging methods.
There I was, a stranger in a strange land.
Okay, enough about my subconscious.
For her dinner, Sweet G designed the menu and the guest list, and I whipped it together. The guests were plentiful, gregarious, and wonderful. The menu was.. well, see if you can find the common elements of this menu:
-Homemade fried chicken strips.
-Baked macaroni and cheese with sharp cheddar
-buttermilk biscuits
-cheese and crackers
-brown rice with parmesan
The trends? Not a veg or fruit in sight, a solid beige palate, and every single one is certified a Sweetheart G comfort food.
I did add the requirement of a veg (she chose carrot) and fruit (a friend brought a great fruit platter), and then, I have to admit it.. I made a salad.. a bright green salad with pink grapefruit.
The cake (four layers of chocolaty goodness) was huge, tasty, and mostly structurally sound.
I leaned, but it never fell over!