Today is my best friend Carol's Birthday. She's not one for a big celebration, but she does always do one thing.
See, several years ago, she was a young thing, living right on The Strand in Manhattan Beach. Okay, one block back, sharing what was called "The House of Sand" with two other girls. The place was, uh... quirky is probably the nicest word. Tiny and unfinished (the closet door actually opened to a storage space of... you guessed it, sand), fleas infested the place for the six years they lived there, even though they never had a pet. But, it was right next to the beach. I would visit all the time, and we would spend hours just lazing away on the weekends.
I digress.
Carol played sports in high school, and was very good. She ran track and seemed to always be moving. In college, she rowed for the school team, and continued to be one of the most fit people I knew.
Meaning, she could eat anything she wanted. And she did. Remember when Muffins were THE thing? I mean the ones as big as your head? Oh, she was all over those. She would eat the Chocolate chocolate-chip ones almost every morning.
Those of us with reason tried to tell her, "That's not breakfast Carol, that's dessert," but she'd have none of it. She had a sweet tooth that put even mine to shame. We'd just laugh at her, have our oatmeal or egg-white omelet, and shake our heads.
Now, Carol is almost 6 feet tall; she needs to eat. "Petite" has never described her. However, after the real world set in, and working long hours replaced running and rowing and biking? She realized what the rest of us had already known; one can't eat cake for breakfast every day and not pay the consequences.
Today, Carol is 43 years old. She and her partner had a beautiful baby boy last year, they own a home, they're responsible adults. Carol eats well, rarely has candy or sugar in the house, only has a beer once or twice a week now.
However, on her birthday, every year, Carol goes to Jake's Cafe in Santa Monica for breakfast. And every year, she orders the same thing: a slice of the seven-layer, chocolate blackout cake.
Usually, I go with her, but I've got a christening to go to. And then the reception afterwards. I've never even heard of a "reception" for a christening, but whatever. The service starts at 10 am, which means I better get a move on, since I need to leave in the next half-hour.
I'd really rather eat cake.
5 comments:
Ah, what a delightful birthday tradition! It's a shame you'll miss it this year, but I like christenings. When the Golden Child [aka my godson] got baptised his mum had a reception after for close friends and family at her house. it was really nice and gave all the people who loved and wanted to celebrate this baby a chance to connect.
Cancers are the best of the zodiac sign to have as a friend. ;)
They should rename it at the cafe "Carol's cake". Hope you had fun at the christening.
Now THAT'S a tradition that can survive any dissent.
Gawkers: "Carol, why do you eat 7-layer chocolate blackout cake on your birthday?"
Carol, mouth full of cake, reaching for a tall glass of ice-cold milk: "That's gotta be the dumbest question I've ever heard."
I was so scared that you were going to say that Carol became diabetic and now she never gets to eat cake because quite frankly, that would be my worst nightmare!
How was the "reception"? Good lord, people just want every damn old thing to be a party eh? Kooks.
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