I have this thing with birthday cakes.
I also have this thing with chickens.
You can read about it here.
Combining the two seemed like a really, really unwise idea, but my boy wanted a chicken cake. Who am I to deny him his birthday wish?
So I set out to make a chicken cake, armed with a glass measuring bowl, a custard cup, and a coffee mug.
Add a some frosting, a couple of crackers, and some M&Ms, and ta-da!
A cake that (sorta) resembles a chicken.
And the next morning, it (sorta) resembled a chicken with its head cut off. But it was nothing that a little frosting and a plastic piece of lumber from Matthew's construction set couldn't fix.
If only it was that easy to slow down Riley's race toward 13. Because, to tell you the truth, I'm a little bit chicken to be the mother of a teenager. Thank goodness I have a year left to
dread look forward to that.