I remember my 12th birthday. My mom baked a birthday cake for me on the day of my birthday, which happened to be a Saturday. When I came into the house about 1pm for lunch, nobody else was home. My parents were away grocery shopping. There, sitting in full view on the kitchen counter was my birthday cake, candles and all.
I was starving, so I poured myself a glass of milk, then got a knife and cut myself a nice piece of my own birthday cake, being careful to cut between the candles so as not to disturb them. Cake tasted great!
My parents came home an hour later. My Dad suddenly spotted a 2 inch piece of cake missing from my cake and went straight through the eff'ing roof, turned left in midair and then came straight down like a laser guided scud missile.
Holy fuk, was he pissed that I had the absolute audacity cut a piece from my birthday cake before he and my mom came home from shopping!
I reminded him who's birthday it was and who's birthday cake it actually was, noting as well there were only 12 candles on the cake and not 3 dozen, suggesting it was most likely my cake and not his. My cake, my rules... is what I said to him. Then he started his rant all over again....
I picked up the cake from the kitchen counter along with the dish it sat on, then walked over to him and mushed it right into his face, then slid the dish up onto the top of his head making him look like he was wearing a hat in a rice paddy.
He became so instantly shocked at my obnoxious behavior that my mom had to walk him out of the kitchen to our backyard where she hosed off his head with the garden hose, then stripped his cloths off leaving him standing there in his underwear and sock feet on the grass.
She came back into the house alone, took one look at me still standing there with my arms folded across my chest and burst into hysterical laughter like I've never heard from her before, nor ever heard since!
My birthday, my cake, my rules.
