Avast Me Hardees, 'Tis A Shipwreck We Be Comin’ Upon

The Man-Cub’s birthday party extravaganza went as well as could be expected. Assuming you ignore the sudden dip in temperature, the light snowfall and the cake mysteriously imploding overnight, anyway. Which, since I tend to be a rose colored glasses, glass half full, silver lining type of gal, I do.

Because it keeps me sane.

I took the day off on Friday so that I could frost the Man-Cub’s cupcakes and deliver them to his classroom. The weather forecast Thursday night had prepared me for the possibility of scattered showers so I wasn’t terribly surprised to wake up to the light patter of rain. Of course by scattered showers, I thought the weatherman meant that the rain would, you know, come and go. Not so since we got a steady downpour all morning long, making me just a tad bit nervous about the outdoor party planned for the following day.

The rain was kind of nice once I returned from dropping the children off at school and set about frosting the cupcakes, however. Since it was rather chilly, I turned on the fireplace and, stirring chocolate fudge frosting in my lovely kitchen with the cat curled at my feet, purring away, it was a Hallmark moment, I swear. Until I looked out the window and realized it was snowing, that is. For I’m fairly certain I have never heard language like that which crossed my lips at that moment on any Hallmark commercial.

So, the snow lasted for about an hour and my hopes for an outdoor party the following day grew dimmer and dimmer. But! It’s Colorado! Ask anyone what the weather is like here and they will tell you that it changes every five minutes. And, you know, rose colored glasses, glass half full, every cloud with a silver lining, blah, blah, blah.

So. I took the Man-Cub’s cupcakes to the school and watched as he proudly handed them out to his classmates. By the time his classroom party was over, the snow had stopped and it was raining again. See! My point is made; Every. Five. Minutes.

And, by seven that evening, the rain had stopped, leaving a lovely sea of mud in its wake. My parents arrived from my hometown just in time for dinner after which I pulled the cakes out of the freezer and went to work on the birthday boy’s pirate ship. It was a pretty simple design, one that I had seen a friend use before and for which the instructions can be found on the Family Fun website and, it turned out really cute. I meant to take a picture of it before going to bed but got busy doing other things, including locking up the cat (who has a strange propensity for eating frosting; one year he licked the eyelash right off the Girl’s cheerleader cake and I don’t think the child has ever quite forgiven him) and, I forgot.

This turned out to be quite a shame considering the sight that greeted me the following morning. The cake had fallen apart and, by fallen apart, I mean giant chunks had fallen from the sides, a huge crack ran down the center of the ship and the sails were toppled over onto the counter. It was atrocious. I was thisclose to ditching my Rose Colored Glasses credo when the Man-Cub walked up behind me and said “Wow, cool shipwreck”.

Because he is his mother’s son.

Inspiration struck and, with the help of a little leftover frosting (one of the lord’s tender mercies; usually I toss the leftover stuff but, for some reason had stuck it in the fridge when cleaning the kitchen the night before), I managed to make it look like we had maybe, possibly, ok, probably not really but stranger things have happened… meant for it to be a shipwreck the entire time.

For the record; the kids loved it.

They loved the rest of the party too. The weather cleared and we were able to hold the party on the front porch as planned. We hunted for buried treasure, had sword fights, played a rousing game of Drunken Pirate and ate the doomed ghost ship before the little scallywags beat the crackers out of the parrot piñata. Most importantly, the Man-Cub enjoyed his day.

I enjoyed a large glass of Pinot Grigio but, that part came later, lest you think I am an irresponsible parent.