I hate icing.
I know, I shouldn't hate anything.
And I especially shouldn't hate it being as cake decorating is my profession, but...
I really can't stand it.
My nephew celebrated his 6th birthday this past weekend and I was asked to make his cake.
He wanted it to be Batman themed.
Side-note: I LOOOOOVE Batman. :)
My husband and I rented every one of the movies over Christmas break last year.... even the ridiculous George Clooney ones.
I love Batman.:)
Anywho, my nephew lives about two and a half hours away and our car was jam packed with our two dogs, their cages and our suitcase, so we decided it would probably be best for me to wait to finish the cake once we got there.
So we're driving.
We get there.
We unload everything.
We hang out.
The kids go to bed.
I start to ice the cakes...
My icing hatred rears it's ugly head.
I have about 5 pounds of buttercream and all I keep envisioning is splattering it on the floor and stomping and swatting at it like a tantrumming two year old.
"You don't want to smooth out huh? Well, I'll show you!"
So instead of just calming myself down and trying to focus on smoothing, I call my husband into the room and ask him what he thought...
My poor husband.
I already knew what he thought.
I didn't want to hear it.
YET, I looked up with my puppy dog eyes and sheepishly asked "...Is it awful?"
What is he supposed to say to that???
That's like asking if I look fat in something!
It was awful.
I knew it.
He knew it.
But, looking at my frazzled face, he knew not to say it.
That didn't matter.
I pulled a Lucy from the Peanuts and started yelling:
"You didn't answer me right away. You had to think about it first, didn't you? If you really had thought it was beautiful, you would've spoken right up. I know when I've been insulted. I KNOW WHEN I'VE BEEN INSULTED!"
I'm such a joy sometimes. :)
Anyways, after a few more aggravated feelings and choice words for icing had been expressed, I finished and went to bed.
The next morning, as I was getting ready, my husband walked in with a weird look on his face.
My heart sank.
I just knew after the nightmares I'd had all night that the cake had caved in on itself and he was trying to figure out how to tell me while also planning his escape to avoid the wrath of The Toozy-nator.
He said he'd been downstairs listening to the conversation my niece and nephew were having as they were looking at the cake:
My niece: (pointing to the Joker) "Why does that man have spray paint cans?"
My sister-in-law: "Because he's a bad man and he's messing up that sign."
My niece: (pointing to the Penguin) "Why doesn't that bad guy have any?"
My nephew: "Dude!! He doesn't need spray paint, he's got a whole penguin army!"
:) I love those two. :)
|NOT a Toozy's original, sorry - I found it on-line, but I added some stuff. And it's all handmade without the use of tracing materials, cutters or fondant.|
So my icing wasn't smooth, so what.
My nephew loved it.
And ate Batman.
All in all... I'd say it was a success. :)