takes the cake

so i'm overall a pretty decent baker. i mean, no blue ribbons or anything, but white flour delicacies are certainly an area where i feel comfortable.

however, i cannot -- CANNOT -- frost a cake to save my life.

summer's cake was the most delicious made-from-scratch vanilla funfetti cake ever, but it seriously looked to have been put together by an eight-year-old.

ah well, the good news is that less attractive (read: ugly) cakes still help beautiful birthday wishes come true.

as for the rest of the party, we turned our dining room into a giant bed of pillows and blankets where we ate pizza for dinner (and cake later on). then after playing some games and dancing in the dark, we adopted our owls, popped some corn, and enjoyed a movie until parents came by to swoop our party guests off to bed.

hands down, the best part of the soiree was listening in on all the little girl pillow talk. for example, these ladies had a very intense discussion during dinner on who had had root beer before and whose daddy drank soda regularly. it was full of gasps and hushed tones and lots and lots of giggles.

i said a little prayer right then that time would freeze and they would stay like this forever and ever, amen.

or at least that in the next sixteen years root beer would still be the most illicit substance they'd ever tried.