That Time I Drove Forty Minutes For Leftover Cake.

Apparently the baby is in her chunking up phase, because I am thirty-five weeks along and ravenous.

As in, finish boxes of chocolate cereal every night (and afternoon) and then pass out on the couch in a cereal coma ravenous.

Or make cinnamon rolls nearly daily ravenous.

Or drive nearly an hour to try to get some leftover cake ravenous. 

You see, my adopted Texas family threw a little late birthday shindig for me last Thursday complete with a delicious cookies-and-cream vegan cake. After choosing to split my piece with Declan, all I could think about was relaxing on the couch post-bedtime with the rest all for me. (And maybe an offering or two for that sweet husband of mine.) With mouthwatering dreams running through my mind, I loaded up the car and drove off into the night, confident that this night would be a good one. 

But as I pulled into my driveway my hopes came crumbling down when the realization hit: I'd left my delicacy on the car roof. And I'd just driven twenty minutes away from it.

After a quick, heartbreaking call to Margaret in which the cake was nowhere to be found, there was only one option: I had to go back to see for myself. I ran inside, deposited my child with his father, and hit the road.

The time crept by as I got closer and closer. I kept my eyes peeled on the pavement, hoping for a dessert miracle. And when I saw it, my heart skipped a beat. My plastic top! Some icing wrapped along the inside! But then it became all too clear that what I really was seeing was wreckage. It was brutal people. Brutal to my heart and soul. And those tire tracks? A punch to the gut. I took a quick picture for posterity's sake and tried to enjoy the icing remnants as I made the long trek home, but it was truly hard knowing their chocolate brother was no longer.  

But let me tell you: I don't regret the journey. It was necessary for these hormones to be quenched. And while it certainly isn't in a better place, it is in a place that I knew wasn't salvageable. And that let my mind rest with some ease that night.

 So disintegrate in peace, sweet cake. You deserved a more appreciated ending. 

Love from-

Your-should-clearly-be-larger admirer

LIVE THE MURRAYED LIFE

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