Sanity Check: Birthday Cake in Flames... Really!

I hadn’t planned on sharing this story in print. After all, some private events—however touching, hilarious, or dramatic—just don’t need to be column fodder.

But the true star of the story, our 15-year-old, recently said: you are going to write about this aren’t you? And then gave me the best reason why I should (which is at the end of the column. No peeking!)

Let’s start at the beginning. My daughter’s and my birthdays are just 4 days apart. And as much as we love birthday cake, two full-size cakes in the same week is just one cake too many.

So, we’ve had varying solutions, depending on the year. Two small cakes. Or cake for her and birthday bagels for me (if I’m in a post-holiday dieting phase) or donuts (if I’m not.)

A few weeks ago, the choice was birthday cake for her and birthday donuts for me. With chocolate icing. And cream filling. (Obviously, this isn’t a post-holiday dieting year.)

My birthday fell mid-week, so we decided to save the traditional festivities for the end of the day. That evening, as my husband and I were leaving to pick up our younger daughter from basketball practice, he whispered something to our older daughter.

Twenty or so minutes later, we returned. I started to open the door from the garage to the kitchen—and it was promptly slammed shut. Youngest daughter said what we were all thinking: “Is that the smell of… something burning?”

We opened the door again and rushed in. By now oldest daughter was desperately trying to throw something away… except… it was fused to a plate.

And finally, we saw it… my birthday donut. Our eldest daughter tearfully explained: “I had the big number 4 candle in the middle of the donut and three little candles on each side of the four. It looked like tiara when I first lit it! I went to do homework, and the next thing I knew, I smelled something burning, and… and… the donut was… IN FLAMES!”

We all stared silently at the donut—now a fusion of chocolate icing, dough, candles, candle holder, and plate.

Finally, my husband said, “um, sweetie, I said to put in the candles … not light them.”

Oldest daughter: “But I wanted mom to see it lit as soon as she walked in! I wanted it to be perfect. So I lit the candles… about ten minutes ago.”

It was at that point that I burst into laughter.

I mean, really. You hear jokes about getting so old your birthday cake goes up in flames. But my cake… albeit a small one… actually did.

Finally, we were all laughing, making jokes about the scenario, and taking photos of the charred donut. When we finished laughing ourselves silly, daughter-the-eldest got out another donut, stuck in a candle, lit it, and I made a wish and blew out the candle—fast.

A few days ago, she asked if I was planning on writing about what we’ve since dubbed “The Flaming Birthday Donut of Doom.”

Oh, no, I said. You should, she said. Why? I asked, horrified at the thought of embarrassing her. Because it’s a funny story, she said.

Stories can’t just be funny, I said; they also have to have a point.

But this story does have a point, she said. It’s not just about your birthday donut catching fire… it’s about trying to make something perfect, and the whole thing going up in flames, but it turning out OK anyway. Maybe even better than what you’d planned.

Ah.

I don’t really remember what I wished for when I blew out the candles on the second birthday donut.

But I don’t think it matters. After all, what more can a mom wish for than a kid who sees the humor—and the life lesson—in a Flaming Birthday Donut of Doom?