There really IS a conspiracy!

First there was the pool sweep.

Then there was the Suave Detangling Spray for Kids.

But then all was quiet and I was lulled into complacency. I went about my life secure in feeling that the conspiracy had been shut down. And then the cake happened. What cake, you ask. Didn't we do this post yesterday?!

It's the Hannah Montana cake. But there's more.

What I didn't mention yesterday is that making the stupid-good-for-nothing-spawn-of-the-devil-cake nearly pushed me over the edge. That cake was big. Much bigger than it looked on the blog. It was actually five different cakes all cobbled together. At 11:00 the night before the party I had finished baking, made the frosting, completed half the decorating, and I was tired. I put the cake aside certain the worst was behind me. I planned to leave the "fun" stuff for the morning so the kids could stand around oooh-ing and ahhh-ing over the brilliance that is their mommy. That's how it was supposed to work .

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I woke up the next morning and casually began work on the cake. Here's what actually happened:

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The angry wood elves who reside in my home must have gotten into the frosting. It was like half-set cement. I tried to work it and within 5 minutes my hands were shaking so hard I literally couldn't do any more. I know the rest of me isn't in the best shape but my hands?! Give me a freakin' break. I made MORE FROSTING to replace the stuff the elves had messed with.

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I assembled the backstage with the new frosting. I can't say I was surprised when I saw it starting to lean.

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Did I mention we were t-4 hours to party time, it was raining hard enough that I was seriously contemplating the merits of building an ark, and the party was supposed to be an outdoor scavenger hunt on GOLF CARTS?! I was starting to freak out worry.

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When the kids came in shrieking that the cake was falling on top of Hannah Montana my stress level might have inched up a notch.

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The good news is that the cake didn't completely fall, the party was moved indoors, and all was right with the world. The better news is that there was a TON of leftover cake. My cake may look like a wreck but it tastes like heaven.

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I carefully wrapped the leftover cake in cellophane, set it on a wooden cutting board, and placed it in the oven. I had enough leftover cake for a week and I intended to enjoy it. In the world according to me, placing baked goods in the oven adds an extra layer of airtight security against dryness.

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Yesterday I was in a hurry. The kids are home from school and there's homework and gymnastics and someone forgot about a paper that's due Friday. I was like a multi-tasking machine. I was doing math problems, checking email, preheating the oven, and debating reasearch strategy. I was a force of nature and I ignored that funny smell for a minute...

The oven hit 400 degrees before I realized the precious, wonderful cake, the cake for which I skipped lunch so that I might have an extra large slice after dinner, the CAKE was still in the OVEN.

If you look really hard you can see the tiny wisps of smoke. The melted buttercream. The cellophane that has become one with the cake.

The cake is clearly the third arm of the conspiracy.

It's out there, people.

Be safe.

This is the end of the Hannah Montana cake stories. I promise.