After I returned from my sleep study yesterday, all I could do is think about the package I knew would be delivered sometime today. This was a very special package for in it, was a reminder to my childhood days of family gatherings and Mardi Gras parades. It has been 15 years since I have been home for Mardi Gras and I was really missing home, thanks to the 300 friends on my facebook who still live there and posted all their parade photo’s. So, Sunday night I had finally broke down and ordered a King Cake despite its expense and today was its delivery day. I bet some of you are thinking. What is so special about King Cake?
King Cake is an oval shaped cake that is made of gourmet cinnamon dough, iced and decorated with sugars. A tiny, plastic baby representing the infant Jesus is inserted into the cake. Traditions holds that the person who gets the piece with the baby in it is obligated to bring a king cake to the next party. These cakes are handmade and can be filled with some of the most delectable confections such as, cream cheese, pecan praline and apple cinnamon. But most important is its representation of the Mardi Gras season. Mardi Gras without King Cake would be like Christmas without the tree.
I spent all day with goop in my hair and adhesive on my face, arms and legs, refusing to take a shower and risk missing the FedEx truck. I know sounds gross but, hey we are talking King Cake here! Even my writing muse was refusing to sing until its sugary goodness was dripping from my lips. The day dragged on slowly until the kid returned from school. Both of them with the same question and it was not, hey mom how did your sleep study go? Or how was your day mom? No, those word would imply some thoughtfulness on their part. The question each one asked as soon as they walked in the door was, “Mom is the King Cake here yet?” Unfortunately, it was not.
At about 6:20pm the doorbell rang and I ran to answer it. On my stoop stood Darren in his purple FedEx shirt, holding my much-coveted King Cake and he was not about to hand it over without a fight. We stood there for five minutes discussing FedEx’s return policy, since it was the day after Mardi Gras, the cake was considered late and he would be more than happy to take care of it. My argument, it was shipped on Monday using 2day shipping and I was too cheap to fork out any more money on this cake to overnight it, so the cake is on time. In the mean time, my daughter could hear the conversation at the door and came to investigate. As soon as she peeked around the doorframe she saw the box, “Yum… King Cake!” Was the last thing Darren and I heard before she ripped the box from his hands and took it to the kitchen. And with that, I wished him a good day.