A talking cake
Most of the parents are in the kitchen and the children are running around the main floor of the house. It’s my niece’s birthday party and the walls reverberate with the sound of voices squealing, screaming, taunting and talking.
My sister, her husband, and I are in the dining room. The three of us are eating a piece of the Dora the Explorer ice cream cake from Dairy Queen. It’s delicious. A layer of vanilla, soft-serve ice cream, followed by crushed cookies, fudge, a layer of chocolate ice cream, another layer vanilla ice cream, and finally a ½ inch of whipped cream.
Looking at the cake from across the room instantly adds two pounds to your frame.
With the plate close to my face, I fork a piece and place it in my mouth. Out of nowhere, I hear a distinct voice.
“¡Vamonos!”
“What the hell is that? You bought a talking cake?” I mumble with the melting ice cream in my mouth, sounding like a reject from a Martin Scorcese film.
“Steven, it’s the book,” says my sister.
“What book?”
“The book on the table.”
“What book on the table?”
“This book,” says my sister’s friend, N, as she points to the table.
With the plate so close to my face, I wasn’t able to see anything except for the Royal Chinet logo. From my perspective, the book didn’t exist since it wasn’t in my field of view.
“Oh, that book,” I say as I place the plate on the table. Beneath the plate is a talking Dora the Explorer book. “I can’t see anything except for this.” I make a large circle on the table. “You know, I was beginning to wonder…”
And, I’m sure so was my sister.
My sister, her husband, and I are in the dining room. The three of us are eating a piece of the Dora the Explorer ice cream cake from Dairy Queen. It’s delicious. A layer of vanilla, soft-serve ice cream, followed by crushed cookies, fudge, a layer of chocolate ice cream, another layer vanilla ice cream, and finally a ½ inch of whipped cream.
Looking at the cake from across the room instantly adds two pounds to your frame.
With the plate close to my face, I fork a piece and place it in my mouth. Out of nowhere, I hear a distinct voice.
“¡Vamonos!”
“What the hell is that? You bought a talking cake?” I mumble with the melting ice cream in my mouth, sounding like a reject from a Martin Scorcese film.
“Steven, it’s the book,” says my sister.
“What book?”
“The book on the table.”
“What book on the table?”
“This book,” says my sister’s friend, N, as she points to the table.
With the plate so close to my face, I wasn’t able to see anything except for the Royal Chinet logo. From my perspective, the book didn’t exist since it wasn’t in my field of view.
“Oh, that book,” I say as I place the plate on the table. Beneath the plate is a talking Dora the Explorer book. “I can’t see anything except for this.” I make a large circle on the table. “You know, I was beginning to wonder…”
And, I’m sure so was my sister.
Authored by S at 12:00 am
10 Comments:
You need to read Spider's blog this morning about haunted places! LOL!
Dora is Satanic.
Dora makes me want to staple bagles to my face.
I know I should try talking cake before I knock it, but I just think it's a bad idea.
ROFL @ Pablo!
the walls reverberate with the sound of voices squealing, screaming, taunting...
There are parties like that in the gay ghetto, but they usually have sheets draped over all of the furniture, domes in bowls, and lots of paper towels.
You know that Dora is a big ol' lesbo? Is your sister thinking that Dora is the proper kind of influence your impressionable niece needs at this tender, young age? On second thought I do need a better mechanic to look at my aging Subaru...so Dora the Explora it is.
kb
Y'all turned a story about a 2-year-old's birthday party into something dirty!
Now, Dora the Explorer will no longer be an innocent to me.
is it a learn spanish book?
Dora is a total lesbian. And Steve on Blue's Clues. He's not fooling anybody. OMG, I just realized everybody on Nick Jr. is gay. Little Bear...
Post a Comment
<< Home