Today my Sister and I were texting about my upcoming birthday. Our conversation then turned in a fashion typical to my wonderful family. My strange, hilarious, sweet, kooky, wonderful family.
Me: "18 more days til my birthday!!!!!!!!"
Sister: "Nooo it can't be!"
Me: "I'll be 22! I dont know how I feel about this. I'll just stay 21 please. Kthanks"
Sister: "What's wrong with 22?"
Me: "It means I'll turn 23 and then 24 and the madness will continue until I'm 60! I'm not ready to be 60!"
Sister: "Heck, I'm not ready to be 30. I'm there and I'm still not ready! That means I'm halfway to 60!!"
Me: "Ahh!!!
Sister: "Whatever you do, no not order a DQ ice cream cake"
[Side Note: I have had tragic experiences with Dairy Queen ice cream cakes in the past few years. On multiple occasions they've comepletely messed up the decoration/name/writing and scraped it off to haphazardly re-write/draw it. Once there was no fudgy chocolate layer (the best part! I mean, come on!). Once it was all vanilla ice cream instead of half vanilla and half chocolate. And once they screwed up the design so badly my Sister had to re-do it. And she did a fabulous job piping UCF's Pegasus]
Me: "I feel like I need to, though, just to keep the tradition of horribly messed up cakes alive."
Sister: "No... Because if it actually turns out right... Well, then you'll be filled with false hope and a desperate longing to do it again. So you'll test fate. You'll order a Labor Day cake. And that one might be right. Then you'll order a Thanksgiving cake and a St. Patty's Day cake and an Arbor Day cake. This will continue until your 60th birthday bash where the cake will be a wreck of epic proportions, rendering that birthday and every previous birthday a lie. You will go mad with grief and start carrying around large quantities of spoons who you will "talk" through as you warn perfect strangers of the dastardly deeds of the vicious DQ."
Me: "Bahahahahaha you are completely right. I can't tempt fate that way. What a miserable 60th birthday that would be! I'm declaring it now - when I turn 60, no one is allowed to get me any form of ice cream cake!"
Sister: "I'll make you an 'Older Than' dirt cake"
[Side Note Again: dirt cake is something Mom would make for ours and other peoples birthdays sometimes when we didn't feel like cake (which was most years. we had lots of alternative cakes) and it involved pudding and ground up oreos and probably other tasty things in a big flower pot with gummy worms on top and through it and plastic flowers sticking in it. Delicious and grody! Perfect for kids.]
Don't you wish your family were more like mine? You should. You don't know what you're missing.
And don't get me a DQ ice cream cake. My future sanity depends on it.
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