What is it about birthday cake that makes it so hideously impossible to say no to?
Theoretically I guess you could say the same of any cake, but there is something instinctive about not refusing birthday cake. Even if you don’t like the flavour. Without fail throughout school and parties and work, if someone brings in cake, its yay. If it’s Birthday Cake, it becomes GIMMIE!
Why I bring this up? It was my colleagues first day back since her 80’s party, and had brought along photos for all to see (and as suspected, due to me battling off the cold the majority of photos with me in them have me lying on the tabletop sleeping), as well as thank you cards (which you just don’t see enough of these days) and an assortment of ‘goodies’. A box of chocolates, a box of biscuits and a healthy heaping portion of birthday cake slices for everyone. All were plonked down in our tea prep area, and the office set upon them like locusts.
The original plan was to avoid it entirely. I’d been a bad girl diet wise due to be sick and I really needed to get back on the wagon. But my health still wasn’t where it should be, my throat was sore and my taste buds not entirely functioning (that, or my milk had gone sour – either is possible), and from the slice I’d had on Friday, it was really nice sponge cake with vanilla icing. So figured I’d let myself have a piece and let my tongue appreciate sugar with my strange-tasting tea.
Which would have been fine, except I snagged another piece when I went to wash my mug. And then another when I refilled my water cup. There were mountains of it…just sitting there. I think there was enough for everyone in the office twice over (lot of people off, holiday leave is almost over). There were still even chocolates and biscuits left after 2 hours – a literal first in this building. So if you headed down that way, you just saw sugar glory…and my self restraint…after its desperate fight on Monday, finally called time of death and I let myself gorge. Tried to make up for it by not having lunch (REALLY wasn’t hungry after mouthing down 4 sponge squares), and that just made me feel awful at Kettle bells – note to self, never do strenuous exercise when you’re still sick, and have eaten nothing but cake all day.
The funny thing is I’ve passed cake slices in the tea prep area before. And sandwiches and crisps and biscuits and the whole nine yards. All stuff I like, but can happily go without. But the second you add BIRTHDAY to the word CAKE, it suddenly becomes a highly anticipated item. Like adding double to cheeseburger, or Directors Cut to a Kamen Rider movie. At least tomorrow I can go in satisfied that there will be no additional treats to worry about (and the wallet stays home too!).