
Anyone want to venture a guess as to what this could possibly be?

Last October, after Ruby’s first birthday party, Kyla and I had the dreaded discussion about what to do with the cake.
See, I wanted to keep it, and he wanted to throw it out (after we got past the time when you can still eat it, of course…he knows better than to suggest throwing out a perfectly good cake in my presence).
Well, his argument was that, even though I was sentimentally attached to her first birthday cake, there was no logical reason to keep it.
Then I said “But we kept our wedding cake and Sadie’s first birthday cake! They’re in the freezer right now. Why can’t we keep Ruby’s?!”
Big mistake. Now the fates of all three sentimental cakes is in jeopardy.
He questions why we still have those. I have no answer other than “because I want to keep them, and I can’t bring myself to throw them away.”
That’s apparently not a good enough reason. He mentions the episode of Hoarders we had watched the previous week.
Then I pull out the big one…”I bet you can even still see Sadie’s little fingerprints in the icing! HER FINGERPRINTS! The only fingerprints of hers that we have other than the ones done in the hospital when she was born. That is important!”
About that time, I realize how completely insane I sound, and the future starts looking pretty rough for the cakes.
After some discussion, I agree with him that it is silly to keep all of these cakes. I mean, why keep a cake that you can’t eat?
So, we pull all of the cakes out of the freezer and decide that we should definitely get rid of the oldest cake, even if I can’t part with the other two just yet.
As you may have guessed by now, that creepy dead monster thing at the top of this post is actually a cake. More specifically, it is what was left of the head of the armadillo groom’s cake at our wedding, which took place in the summer of 2006.
You can see the “Bleeding Armadillo” red velvet cake on our big day, below (hate that we didn’t get a picture of it after a few pieces had been cut out, looking all bloody).



So, that night, I said my final goodbyes to the armadillo head that had been keeping watch over my frozen vegetables for over four years.
RIP bleeding armadillo head.

Karen Brown - moderately crafty, crass, funny, finicky, stubborn, somewhat domestic, long-winded, Southern work-at-home mother of two.









