My husband’s birthday was last Sunday, so of course we ended up celebrating all weekend. Except for the parts where he was working, during which I was birthday cake making. Growing up my parents always made a big deal out of our birthdays. They included skipping school, presents, homemade cake, and usually a stop at Cracker Barrel to see dad who was always working. I like celebrating, and spent most of the week before his birthday trying to get Andrew excited. (Apparently his now advanced age makes celebrating more difficult.)
So, I made a cake:
It was a combination of several different recipes, and I’m pretty sure we each gained a pound or two from eating it over the last week. But it was so good! He wanted peanut butter & chocolate, so it’s a peanut butter cake with chocolate peanut butter filling in between the layers, and has a whipped cream frosting topped with chocolate ganache. And some chopped up Reece cups on top, because what’s a few more calories, right?
And wrapped presents (legs for a new desk chair, a movie, a book, and an iTunes gift card):
And we went out to breakfast at the North End Cafe because bacon & cheddar pancakes exist there.
And Andy opened presents:
And the puppies ‘helped’ and/or ate ribbons:
And I made chicken enchiladas for dinner and I think they were gross, because I have never liked such things, but he loved them, and that is what counts!