This past weekend, I visited my boyfriend, Chris, in Washington D.C. to celebrate his birthday. Naturally, I decided I should fly 1,000-ish miles from St. Louis with a homemade birthday cake for him. (Obviously.) This may seem like a bit of a hassle, but it surprisingly was not. Was it hilariously awesome? Affirmative. People ate it up. Not literally… but some wanted to.
Let me break my cake traveling process down for you: First, I had a man help me with my luggage for the “safety” of the cake. Then, when I was checking my bags, a group of Southwest employees ganged up on me saying they’d have to confiscate it. (And might I add that they kept disturbingly straight faces at first. Definitely threw my NOYOULIESTOPTRICKIN radar off.)
While waiting in the security check line, a man inquired about the future owner of the cake and demanded repeatedly that he [Chris] better downright appreciate it. (It’s cool, stranger man. You couldn’t have known that I have the sweetest guy alive.) Then the security guard announced to all with a chuckle that both laptops and special cakes should be placed in their own trays. And while the cake was moving through the X-ray machine, I heard her say, “I’m going to need to taste test this one.”
As I was boarding the plane, a fellow traveler stopped abruptly, cackled and proceeded to ask me 7.524 million questions about the cake. Once I made it on the plane, the flight attendant clapped and announced I’d brought cake for everyone while I walked down the aisle. And throughout all this, countless small children eyed the flying cake up and down with lust.
And all this took place before 7 a.m. Whew! Now I know how to make friends at the airport.

You are always on my mind, Thai food. Always.

Why does this cake exist? Because Chris does a wicked impersonation of Kermit. Yes, this is one of the reasons I’m dating him. (Really? Yes.)




















