Happy Birthday “Honey”


There were two things I craved above all else when I was pregnant. Ice cream and store bought cake. I did not care what form these two came in; whether it was sundaes, shakes, chocolate, or vanilla. All I knew was they could not be mixed.

So, when I was pregnant with my second child, I decided to do something a little crazy. A tad bit more than self indulgent. I decided that what our household needed was a bona fide birthday cake for an afternoon treat.

Here was the problem, it was no one in our household’s birthday. I wracked my brain thinking of something we could celebrate. “Hey, honey. When do you think our cat was born?” Hmmmm. “What day would you say you proposed to me?” “How many months has it been since we put in that dryer?” None of those reasons panned out.

So, I finally decided to just ask my husband to get me a cake from the grocery store.

“Why?” He asked.

“Because I want one.”

Silence. Judgement. Not gonna happen.


I was desperate. I had to have a birthday cake at any cost. I made up a plan of action.

The next time I was at the grocery store, I casually walked up to the bakery counter.

“How can I help you?”

I stood there paralyzed. Now was my moment of truth. I tried to act casual.

“I would like to order a birthday cake,” I said trepidly.

“What kind and how big?”

Oh no, I had not planned that far in advance. I quickly glanced at the selections.

“I guess I would like a sheet cake.” Ya, that’ll do it.

I started getting into this whole ordering procedure. This wasn’t so bad.

“Can you make it half chocolate and half vanilla with some of that yummy cream inside? And with whipped vanilla topping?”. OHHHH YAAAA!

“When would you like this?”. Hmmm. “Now,” didn’t seem like the right thing to say if I wanted to keep my dignity intact.

“Tomorrow morning,” I replied.

She looked up at me. I could see the quizzical look in her eyes. I retained a poker face.

“What would you like it to say?”

Oh No! It has to say something? Why hadn’t I realized this? I just thought, “Gimme a cake,” would have been to blunt.


It was a very long pause. A couple of moments passed and still nothing came to me.

I finally blurted out, “Happy Birthday, Honey. I would like it to say “Happy Birthday Honey.””

Yes, that is what my brilliant mind came up with. I could not even think of a real name.

At this point I knew my jig was up. I kept my head high even as I saw her biting her cheek. I did not care. I had passed all the trials. My reward was coming.

I could barely sleep that night from the excitement.

I went to the store the next day and bought that beautiful cake. “Is this okay?” she asked as she lifted the top to show me my creation.

“Sure. Sure. It’s beautiful. He’s going to love it.” I mumbled. I rushed out of the store with my giant desire.


Here is the problem. ” Honey” did not know I had ordered a cake. “Honey” did not want a cake. “Honey” was in for a treat.

I came home and proudly lifted the top of the box to show him what I had done. He looked at me like I had grown two heads. “What is this? Who is Honey?”

“It’s a birthday cake. It’s for you. Don’t you want any?”

Again silence. Then “Honey” just turned around and walked away shaking his head.

I did not care. I breathed in the glorious scent of victory. And then I ate it. I ate that cake for breakfast. I ate that cake for lunch. I ate that cake for dinner and dessert and any other meal I could think of. I ate it until it was all gone. My husband never ate one piece of it. He refused to acknowledge its existence.

Yes, I ate a whole sheet cake! All by myself! In less time than it should ever have taken.

“Honey” was very happy indeed.