(click on photo to enlarge)
Though we'd been searching for years with no luck ("You have it!" "No, you do!" No, I'm certain I gave it to you!"...), my mom finally found my baby book packed securely in a box labeled "ABSOLUTELY DO NOT THROW AWAY" hidden in the far depths of her basement.
It arrived in the mail this week and, for the first time in well over a decade, I walked down the overwhelmingly orange, brown, yellow and red memory lane of my first year of life. On the last few pages are photos of my 1st birthday party; the guests, the decorations, the other fat babies, and the cake.
Oh, the cake. A classic sheet-style covered in sugary frosting. I, unsurprisingly, have no memory of what the cake tasted like, if it was too dry or too sweet, but what I do know, without a doubt, is on that day the seeds of an addiction were planted. The minutest particles of sugar, flour, eggs, butter, and baking soda (maybe baking powder, maybe both) began their slow convergence, growing over time as I grew, until one day the addiction took over.
Pictures of Cake was born.
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