Birthday cake and corner pieces

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I mentioned earlier that I recently celebrated a birthday. It marked my 45th trip around the sun. It was my first pandemic birthday, so it was understandably low-key. And I was more than OK with that.

I mean, friends offered me well-wishes on Facebook and I got some nice texts and had a good conversation with Dad that evening. But I was more than OK with not really doing anything else special for my birthday.*

Aly happened to come home for the weekend before my birthday and the girls^ made a birthday cake for me. We had a nice little party and I blew out the candles. When I put my piece of birthday cake on my plate, I had to smile and hold back a little chuckle.

I had chosen a corner piece.

I know what you’re thinking. “What’s the big deal?” Well…it used to be a big deal in the Todd family.

Why the corner piece of a birthday cake is a big deal

Here’s how I remember it. Of course, it could have happened differently and I’m probably fuzzy on the details, but this happened at least 30 years ago, so I hope you’ll forgive me if I’m a little off.¨

I remember celebrating many a birthday at Grandmama’s house. Aunts and uncles and cousins would gather at her house for cake, ice cream, and presents. Grandmama made a lot of cakes while I was growing up. She always used a pan that was not unlike this metal cake pan.

It had a sliding lid instead of a lid like this one, but you get the idea.

Grandmama would grease and flour her pan, like you were supposed to. I mean, who likes to have their cake stick to the bottom of the pan?

Grandmama and Grandpa had four sons and a daughter. Now, as you can probably imagine, they gave her a hard time from time to time – even as adults. For example, I was in my early teens when one of my grown-up uncles decided he was tired of Grandmama giving him socks and underwear for Christmas.

“Mom,” he said, “If you give us underwear for Christmas this year, I promise – I’m going to model it in front of everyone.”

Christmas morning came and it was time for our family to open presents. The room was tense. Did Grandmama give anyone the infamous underwear gift? Was anyone going to have to model those tighty-whities?

Then the tension broke when someone started to chant “Un-der-wear. Un-der-wear. Un-der-wera.” And before I knew it, the whole room was chanting “Un-der-wear! Un-der-wear!”

We took turn opening presents and each present opener was cheered on to the tune of “Un-der-wear! Un-der-wear!”

Nobody got underwear that year. Nobody got underwear at any of our family Christmases after that. But a new tradition had begun. We chanted “Un-der-wear! Un-der-wear!” at every Christmas gathering after that. We still do it from time to time, even though Grandmama passed away more than 25 years ago.

Grandmama’s sons were relentless

They liked to give Grandmama a hard time. It was all out of love, of course. But they liked to give her a nice ribbing. And everyone joined in. So you can imagine what happened when someone noticed a little bit of flour on the corner piece of their birthday cake. The shame! The embarrassment! No birthday cake should have flour visible. That was unacceptable.

From that moment on, corner pieces were considered the inferior piece of the birthday cake because it had flour on it.

This was a big deal. For years. Nobody wanted a corner piece. And the unlucky one of us who got the corner piece was (jokingly) mocked incessantly.^^

My piece of birthday cake

When I put my piece of birthday cake that the girls so lovingly made and decorated, I couldn’t help but smile.

The corner piece of my birthday cake.

In my mind’s ear, I could hear my aunts and uncles shouting “Ah ha! Matt got a corner piece! Matt got a corner piece” I promise you, though, there was no flour to be seen on this corner piece of birthday cake.

It only lasted for a brief moment, but the whole experience was oddly comforting.

Yeah, I got a corner piece. And I was proud of it.


Endnotes

*Dad says that the older I get, the more I’ll appreciate low-key birthday celebrations. He’s probably right, although I’m not sure how much low-key we can get. And I’m OK with that.

^Let’s be real here. It was Christy. Christy made the birthday cake. Because she’s amazing. Now, don’t go thinking I’m saying she’s amazing because I’m trying to butter her up or something. She doesn’t even read my blog. So she’s not going to know that I wrote that she’s amazing. It’ll just stay between you and me. Because she already knows I think she’s amazing.

¨Let’s be honest. There’s only about 10 people who know if I’m misremembering things. And there’s just as good of a chance that they’re misremembering as much as I’m misremembering.

^^I’m serious. We all knew it was a joke. It was all out of love. We loved Grandmama. And we loved each other. Still do.

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Howdy. I'm Matt. My wife, Christy, and I have four kids and two dogs, I'm passionate about orphan care. I'm a die-hard fan of the Evansville Aces, the Indiana Hoosiers, and Star Wars. I'm trying to live life by the Todd family motto: "It behooves us to live!"
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