Cheap and Boring, or What not to call your wife

As I've mentioned a few times already, Andrew got me a cake decorating set for Christmas. I've always been interested in cake decorating--not that I've had a whole lot of experience with it, but I've had some. A few of my neighbors, Nancy Green (oops, Garner) and Trina Olsen, were amateur cake decorators and I loved their work. Nancy, our neighbor in British Columbia, would let me come over and peek at the cakes in her fridge. Trina, our neighbor in High River, would let me and Tacy decorate cakes occasionally and we loved watching her make cakes. Especially wedding cakes. She put so much work into those. Weeks, probably.

And we recently uncovered this:


It's a picture I drew for my grandpa that my grandma saved for years and years. It is of a very ornate cake, if you couldn't tell.

Let's just say that cake decorating has always been an interest of mine that I've never really gotten to play out until recently when Andrew gave me a cake decorating set.

I've made two cakes since Christmas. One on New Year's Eve and one yesterday. I need to make a lot more before I'm any good. I've somehow developed a dream of making a wedding cake but I'm not near well enough experienced to do that yet.

As we were driving to my parents' house yesterday I had the cake set on my lap and I was noticing the sad, sad state of my flowers. They looked like chrysanthemums but they were supposed to look more like roses.

"I'm going to have to practice a lot more if I'm ever going to make a wedding cake," I remarked to Andrew.

"Who are you going to make a wedding cake for?" he snickered at me.

"I don't know. Lots of people could get married. David..."

Andrew interrupted my list, "Why would he ask you to make a wedding cake? It would be cheap and boring?"

Now, I knew that Andrew didn't mean to say what he said, but I thought I'd give him a little scare so I slowly turned my head to give him my best glare, which isn't very intimidating at all.

"What do you mean?" I asked, "That I'm cheap and boring?"

"Uh, no..." he stammered, "I mean you're the opposite of that..."

"Which is," I prompted.

"Expensive and exciting," he said, the intonation rising to a question, asking for my approval.

I just laughed. I'm not sure that expensive and exciting sounds much better than cheap and boring.