The cat's out of the bag. Or should I say dog?

After Staci wrote this post yesterday about her dog and her husband's birthday cake, it totally reminded me of a similar experience I had involving that girl below.

The one on the left. She looks innocent but don't let that fool you.

Backstory: I have this Uncle, and he has this wife (I don't call her "aunt" because she's not even 2 years older than me) they live far away and they always come to visit around Christmas. Her birthday is December 24th. There's always Jager and card games and dice games and staying up way to late. But that's what family is all about, right?

 

The third year she came with him for Christmas, my uncle decided he wanted to throw her a surprise birthday party, and he makes me in charge of the whole thing. And he wanted an ice cream cake. Well, in my lil po dunk home town, the stores don't sell ice cream cake. There are two marble slab stores about 40 minutes away, both within 15 minutes of each other. So I called one, placed the order, and asked if they were the store at Location A, to which they answered "yes, yes we are, right next to blah blah blah." So me and mom drove to get the cake... only to find out we went to the wrong store. 20 minutes and one headache later, we've got the darned ice cream cake and we are headed back home.

 

During the trip home the cake slid around in the box and got smashed on one side. I was soooo mad. We decided to stash the cake in my parents upright deep freezer (which was located outside) until the next day, and then we would worry about fixing it. So we dropped the cake in the freezer and went inside. A few minutes later, I had to run outside for something and that's when I saw it.

 

The cake. The dog. The slobber.

My reaction

 

The only thing I could do was scream and when my mom came outside the only thing she could do was laugh and say "At least you can't see where its messed up anymore." She then proposed that we just wipe all of the icing off and re ice it in the morning... and the longer I listened to her the better that planned sounded.

 

The next day (her birthday) all of us went our separate ways (my dad, uncle, and brother to the hunting club, me and my cousin to fix the cake, and my mom was...somewhere I don't remember). All of us were so wrapped up in getting everything ready for the party, that we completely forgot about the birthday girl. She was at my parents house all alone. While we were decorating she was calling her mom (who was getting ready to drive the 10+ hours to get her) because everyone forgot about her birthday.

 

So when its party time and we all yell "surprise" as she walks in, she just starts crying and says she can't believe this is what we were doing all day and that she had one of the worst birthdays ever. We comforted her with a tiara and jager shots and all was well. Me and mom never told anyone about the dog/cake incident. I even ate some of the cake.

 

You couldn't even tell the cake was re-iced. 

 

Moral of the story: surprise parties almost never work out, jagerbombs make everything better, and a little puppy slobber never hurt anyone.