Instalment XXXIV – Wherein our little heroine fakes a cake

Tales from the Tropics

Reason 1504 why I love my fucking family- my cousin, the youngest and official black sheep, dropped out of engineering/ was kicked out for not showing up and was punished by being bought a motorbike and sent to baking school. I secretly think that if he knocked up a girl it would be totally fine like it would only cement his masculinity but if I come back barefoot and pregnant, there aren’t enough religious icons for me to beg forgiveness from. Just don’t little heroine. Best to be a birth controlled hoe than a knocked up hoe. Got it!

One of the things he learned to make was fruitcake which he bought back for the fams when they came down for my grandmother’s birthday. He is the only boy and the darling of the family. Including my darling, you just cant help but give in to his spoiled harmless ways. We over babied him and he just doesn’t get life yet. That’s ok. I’d like some gentle parenting too not that the female empowerment self help book my Uncle gave me was not appreciated. I do need to help myself.

So the middle cousin, comes home for semester break and the first thing she does is go to the fridge and look for the fruitcake all shady. Our favourite little black sheep forgot to take a picture of the damn fucking fruit cake for his final assessment. Theres a quarter left. It will do. The stupid thing also needs to be iced. Have you made fondant? It’s texturally unpleasant. I was up to my wrists in that shit.

When the truth is broken about cake scandal I’m one hundred percent surprised by the family reaction. it’s all PR mode. No yelling. We got to work the problem of getting him a pass. Everyone, including my grandmother is sitting around our dining room table thinking how to fake a full fruit cake. We need one picture with a slice out of it. Main dilemma we can’t even replace it because fruitcake is rare here this time of year.

Solution- My cousin and I go out to the nearest bakery and buy a chocolate sponge cake. Thank fuck it’s a colour match. It is then operated on and the remaining fruit cake is inserted into it like some kind of cake frankentein and then we ice that mother fucker. True love is rolling out fondant in thirty degree heat. It was actually awful. I spent at least twenty minutes trying to get it out form under my perfectly manicured nails. Your fucking welcome little sheep.

I just realised he still never got in trouble for fucking up and almost failing out. The cake lie was a great little success!!! and I also now know how to make fondant. Life skill! What I learned, your family got your back like no matter what, we’re gonna solve the problem together and bury the lie so don’t fuck with us cause if I murder you, I roll deep with a crew that’s gonna figure out how to cover my ass and dispose of your remains (answer is arson btw).

xx SJ

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