Adventures in CakeBaking

  Everyone's done it at least once. (Yes, this is how I started my last blog) Maybe not to the extent that I did... If you haven't, then you seriously need to give me lessons or rub off your awesomeness onto me. It's been in movies. Some people may laugh when it happens, some may cry. It all depends...
  You see, tomorrow's my mom's birthday. Yes, everyone sing her a little Happy Birthday in you head, or out loud if your having a good day. So her birthday = Yay! Since we're not super mean and we're not going to let her make her own birthday, the job is then passed down to family line to me.
Louisa make cake: Yay...
It's not that I don't like doing it. I love baking things, it's fantastical. But... I'm not the perfect baker my mom is. So, occasionally, mishaps happen, or maybe not so occasionally. (Okay, so I admit it, every time I into the kitchen some mishaps happen.) I'm not the best. I say it again. I won't even mention the pizza moment, or the... nevermind.
You are saying, yeah, me too. That's okay. But I don't think you understand. My cake almost exploded. No lie. So yeah, maybe I'm the next best baker my family has, or more likely, I'm the next oldest who can handle the kitchen without burning the house down. Burn house down? Challenge accepted. But anyway,  let's break this down for you:

• Mom and Dad went to get Mom inked for her b-day. I'm babysitting and head baker. HEHE Maniacal Laugh Maniacal Laugh...
•  Preheated oven to appropriate time: 350 degrees.
• I mixed stuff together. I did that perfectly well. I'm pretty proud of that.
• I got a batter and a pan out. Still doing good.
• ROAD BLOCK! I tried to pour the batter into the pan. Little did I remember one teensy detail. Baking soda makes things rise. Oh yeah. That's right. I filled it up to the brim because in my head, Well, I don't want to waste the last little 1/2 cup of batter. It's fine. Besides, what's the worst that can happen?
•  Yes. I'm slapping myself for that smart idea. Put in oven. I'd say successfully. I only burnt myself 2 times out of the usual 5. Mission accomplished. 
• Watch it like a hawk because I still believe that nothing has gone wrong yet and you're wondering when the mayhem will start.
• Realize my mistake as I watch, horrified at the whole cake sputtering and overflowing in the oven. It looks like a volcano and I realize that my mom's going to kill me. Oh NOOO!
• Try to catch the drips from the oncoming waterfall of batter by placing another pan under it. Another smart move, dirtying another pan. Shhh. Don't tell anyone ;)
• Smelling something horrid burning. Noticing that the drips on the oven floor and the drips in the pan were burning up and bound to catch on fire soon. 
• Like Speedy Gonzales, turning off oven and tearing both pans out of it, burning myself a couple more times in the process.
• Realizing that the batter was pure liquid and it splashed all over the floor and counters. Fun.
• Swiffering the floor and clearing everything out leaving just a lot o' paper towels and the remains of the cake
• Cleaning like crazy because I got word that the 'rents (To use a term no one uses anymore) were on their way back. I promise that I have never cleaned so efficiently and quickly as I can.
• Scooping out the insides of the cake to lower the level a bit. Hoping that it works THIS time. Crossing my fingers.
• Finally scraping the crap off of the grids on the oven and cleaning out the oven as a whole. 
• Preheat again.
• Wait.
• Put cake in again. Cross fingers again.
• Smile stupidly when things turn out not that bad. Little mishaps may stink, but they usually turn out okay. Not perfect, but okay.

Whatever you do. Don't tell her about this. My mom anyways. This must remain in our secret until I give you the signal. The signal is "Caw! Caw!" Yeah. Wierd but I'm one of those kids you always wanted to be a secret agent who had secret signals. So this is me living my dream. When I write the signal in the comment box, then you can load my mother's inbox with as many e-mails as you wish. But until then, thanks for waiting. After all, birthdays are about surprises and my mom doesn't know what kind of cake I made, or how I made it.