You Say It's Your Birthday

So Zandy turned 60 this weekend. Not really, but I love to mess with him. Believe me, I get as good as I give. Evidence of this follows. We celebrated...um...pretty much not at all. I don't think going to lunch on Saturday at our neighborhood Chinese buffet (shout out to Lotus Garden!) counts, especially since Alex's favorite thing to do before we venture over to the joint is to yell out at our cat, "Gizmo, we're off to eat your relatives!" Mmm-hmmm, that's muh Zandy. He used to refer to their chicken kabobs as "rat-on-a-stick." Eventually, I just gave up and quit eating them. The reference stirred too much of a visual for me to actually partake any longer. He also refers to their egg drop soup as "snot stew." Yes, I, too, wonder why I actually agree to go there with him . Like I said, I love to mess with him but, in the words of five-year-olds everywhere, he started it! Yeah, we are screwed up but somehow it works. I do not question this. Does one question why the world goes 'round? Okay..well, some people actually do. But I don't. I find questioning complicated things usually leads to really long and boring answers that I tend to fog out on about halfway through and begin fantasizing about, like, the new gourmet flavors of Pringles or something. So I mean, really, do we want me pondering? I thought not.

Where was I? Oh yeah, the birthday un-celebration. So we didn't do anything. And, equally offensive, I didn't get him anything either. Well, here's the deal. Alex is notorious for living a very simple lifestyle. If the dude decides he wants something, he just goes out and gets it. Yeah, it puts a serious cramp on gift giving. So this year I basically just said, "Hey, is there anything you really want because, ya know, we're pretty poor, and I'm not into frantically searching my brain for gift ideas. Say, how 'bout a cake and some lovin'?" He was totally down with this idea. His cake of choice was German Chocolate. His lovin' of choice is totally none of your business! God! Pervs! :)

Below you'll find a pic of his cake, which I made from scratch. Yes, from scratch! Yeah, like sifted flour and sugar and eggs and stuff. I know, I'm like friggin' Martha Stewart over here or somethin'. Too bad baking is the only thing Martha-like that I do. Other than that, it's Banquet chicken pot pies, Kraft mac-n-cheese, and dead plants in flower pots all the way.

This is the Zandy's German Chocolate birthday cake.

Alex diggin' into a hearty slice o' cake.

I made the cake using a recipe from my all-time fav cookbook. Fannie Flagg, the author of Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe, wrote it, and if you're looking for southern comfort food, this is the cookbook for you. All of the recipes are really bad for you- tons of fat and salt and calories- really freakin' out-of-this-world delicious, and guaranteed to put you into cornary arrest or diabetic coma. Choose your poison. There's a coconut cake recipe that is soooooo delightfully sinful. I salivate just thinking of it. Seriously. I've tried to remember how long I've had this cookbook, and I remember making recipes from it back when I lived on Chestnut Street, which marks it at about a decade. That's the sign of a good cookbook, my friends.

It just so happens that Alex and our nephew J.T. have the same birthday, so on Sunday, we went over to Ted and Molly's to help J.T. celebrate. This was an actual celebration with cake and gifts. Then we all got to watch four grown men struggle through trying to figure out how to actually transform a Transformer. Riveting stuff. Aside from this, the main entertainment was listening to Max, who's eight, moan and groan over the Saints' loss. We all promptly informed him that if he's going to be a Saints fan, he'd better get used to this or find some other team to support. Here are some pics from J.T.'s party.

The Birthday Boys

"I'm this many!" Well, not really. He's three. Cut him some slack.

Wish I was still this excited to blow out birthday candles. So cute!

And now, we feast!

Really, if you can't gorge yourself with cake on your third birthday, when can you?

Mary Grace woke up just in time to celebrate.

Next week, we're off to Gulf Shores, Alabama, for the annual Mottram Thanksgiving shin-dig. I'll tell you all about it, I promise. Until then, I hope all of you, my fav peeps, have a super Thanksgiving overdosing on tryptophan. I know I will!