An excess of appliances and a happy kid

One of the things my family is firm on is cake frosting. There will be no powdered sugar or shortening or jars of processed goo. No. You have to make Julia Child's buttercream with boiling sugar and whipped egg yolks and unsalted butter and NO EXCUSES. Which is exactly the reason I buy bakery cakes for most celebrations. But on this occasion, I was determined to re-create the kittycat & Smarties cake my mother made for me when I turned two - a thing so magnificent that I can still remember it - so I hauled out Mastering the Art of French Cooking and did the thing. It was not a perfect execution - the hand mixer died and I had to employ my old Kitchenaid, because my other Kitchenaid was in use, and I had a moment in the kitchen there, staring at my two Kitchenaids chugging away and wondering what kind of monster I had become. Gavin decorated with m&ms. And put candles on for nipples. The end result was homely and funny, and both the pre-teen boys insisted that I make them the EXACT SAME cakes for their next birthdays. What they lack in sophistication, they make up for in don't-give-a-damnness. It earned them the candy-encrusted ears when serving time came around.

The birthday girl reveled. She was the happiest little very-serious-toddler in town. This child is fierce in the way fierce meant before evolutionary linguistics got hold of it. She's kind of a lot of toddler to handle as a parent, but then she'll hook an arm around your neck, plant a hard kiss, and say, "I LOVE YOU," in a way that is both charming and indisputable. She's not buttering anyone's buns. She will not say she's sorry if she isn't sorry, she will tell you straight if she is, she will study things very hard and laugh when she figures them out, and she will rage incandescently if things tip over the edge.  Which they tend to, when the world is full of sewing scissors and irritable cats and brothers with Lego ships they won't share.

But not on this day.

My daughter is not a sweet little princess. She's a tiny Granny Weatherwax, and that is just as she should be. Happy birthday, Zenny! You are completely wonderful.