A story about cake and other things. Who knows...   

Tuesday Night:




"What are you...? Awl, no. Not until after dinner!" dad shouts playfully as a plastic bakery container enters the living room.

"Ole, I'm just putting it out here," mother replies innocently.

She smirked, placing the bakery container on the coffee table. I lean in to take a closer look.

"Wha...?" I whisper to myself. My parents catch me eyeing the dessert.

"There's one in there for you too," dad grins.

"What is it?" I ask.

"German chocolate cake."

"Hmm..."

I sit back in my seat, slightly disappointed, and continue watching the TV. Mother leaves her seat to prepare the salad. Meanwhile, I pop back up and grab the bakery container.

"Hmm, this actually looks good. Wait, is that coconut?"

"Yes, that would be coconut," dad replies.

"Why does it have coconut on it?" I moan.

"Because it's in the frosting."

"But why did they have to put coconut in the frosting?"

"Because German chocolate cake has coconut in the frosting..."

"Couldn't they've picked the coconut bits out of the frosting?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because it wouldn't be German chocolate cake without coconut frosting."

"That makes no sense. Coconuts don't grow in Germany. It should be called Hawaiian chocolate cake or coconut chocolate cake. Besides, the frosting would look much better without the coconut bits... Is it good [cake]? Have you tried it?"

"Yes, your mom used to make it all the time. Hers was good. You guys liked it."

"I don't remember that. Was I like, four, or something?"

"No."

"Yeah, I always exaggerate... More like two, right?"

Mother enters the room and I quickly put her cake back. We watch TV until the oven dings. After dinner, I grab my cake slice and a fork and plop down on the couch.

"This is actually good," I say, "Yeah... Yum."

Dad laughs.

"Still would taste better without the coconut bits."

Mother takes a bite out of her slice.

"Ew. I don't like this," she says.

"She likes it," dad says pointing to me. I shrug, surprised myself.

"It has a strange aftertaste that I can't..."

"It's the coconut, isn't it?" I interrupt.

"No. Just some strange aftertaste that I can't describe. My German chocolate cake is better."

Dad nudges me. "It's not up to her standards," he laughs.

I finish my slice and down my glass of milk.


Wednesday Morning:

Mother and I drink coffee while we discuss the definition of culture and something about Picasso, Velazquez, and Salvador Dali's mustache. Who knows... Oh, and my brother didn't eat his cake slice last night.

"Mom, can I have this cake slice?" I ask.

"Yeah, nobody else wants it."

"I thought this cake was good. Why didn't you like it?"

"I just didn't like the taste of it."

"I thought you liked coconut."

(sigh) "It wasn't the coconut... Just some strange aftertaste in the chocolate."

"Maybe it was the chocolate cream in the center..."

"It had chocolate cream in the center?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm. Well, I never put cream in my cake."

"What was your cake like?"

"My cake is just one chocolate layer with no cream. It is very good."

She nods in an effort to convince me.

"I don't remember you making German chocolate cake."

"You don't?"

"Nope. I don't remember you making any cake for that matter."

"Oh, well, that's too bad."

"Did it have coconut in the frosting?"

"Yes."

"Why did you put coconut in the frosting? You don't have to put coconut in the frosting, you know."

"The coconut came in the frosting packet. There was no way to take it out."

"Packet, huh? Your cake? If Betty knew, hmm... What would she do? Does dad know?"

Mother laughs. "What?! It's my cake. I made it! You didn't think I actually did 'scratch,' did you?"




Have you ever tried to pass packaged food recipes off as your own to impress? Did anyone find out... or are you just too good?


Also, tell me, would you mind coconut bits in your cake frosting?