Happy Birthday - Who?

I swear, there are days that I don't have the brains God gave a goose, and Sunday was one of them.  I  told my son, Wesley, that I would bake him a birthday cake.  He was to have company and wanted chocolate so I baked a chocolate cake.  Then I needed to decorate it.

I have baked many cakes and decorated them.  I even won first prize at my decorating class years ago.  I know how to decorate.  I can use both butter cream and fondant.  I decided to use butter cream.  That's what I won first prize using.

First, I couldn't get the butter cream to go on smoothly.  Didn't worry, I could fix that.  Got the cake covered, then mixed the colors - green, yellow and brown.  Evidently, it makes a difference in the color if the icing is fondant or butter cream.  My green came out a dirty, nasty green. Tried a different green.  Worked.  Started by putting on brown stems for flowers.  Looked fine.  The yellow flowers were a cross between a rose bud and Lily. They didn't look bad.  Leaves were next - so, so, but was running out of time, so they had to do. 

Next came the Happy Birthday and Wesley.  I wrote' Happy Birthday' across the top and Wesley underneath. Stood back and look at my handiwork.  Never have been able to spell, but somehow that Birthday came out "Birtdy"  I couldn't leave it like that so I managed to get part of the lettering off and finally had Birthday, even though it was a little crooked.

Next I looked at Wesley.  I've spelled his name for years.  I had written "Wesssly".  Nuts, again I scraped off part of the word and got it right - "Wesley".

The final step was the border around both the top and bottom of the cake.  Was using a plastic throwaway bag and couldn't make it work well, and by now my hands were hurting.  When I finally  got both borders in place I was tired, running late, and the cake was a disaster.  Didn't have time to  bake another one.

My solution was to go to the grocery store and buy one.  Picked out an Italian Cream and the lady was to put Happy Birthday and his name on it.  She asked me how to spell Wesley and I told her.  A few minutes later she peeked around a partition and asked, " was that with an "e" or  "y".  "Y" I said.  She disappeared and came back a short time later with the packaged cake.  I took it and paid.

On the way to my car I looked at the cake.  It said Happy Birthday Wesly.  Oh S--t.  He was to have a house full of company.  I presented both cakes to him.

For crying out loud, I can decorate a cake, remember? I won first place.  When those people at Wesley's saw that messed-up cake,  I don't think I could have been more embarrassed if I had been the Pope coming out of a whorehouse naked.