The Cake, the dang darn cake

I baked a cake for my friend Ofelia's b-day. It was going to be a jello pudding cake, she loves my jello pudding cake. You bake the cake, pour the jello into it, and put it in the fridge till it's cooled off. Then put vanilla pudding and dream whip on top for the frosting. While i was taking an after church nap, which I almost never do...honestly, which Eric does do, every Sunday after church, Chase decided to help himself to some cake...well, alot of cake. Eric was snoozing on the couch, i was in my room and Eric comes in and says..."uhhh, yeah, you're gonna wanna bake another cake...." I know in these pics, the cake looks gross, but it's actually a very delectable and delightful cake when it's all done and made and put together...here, it looks like crap.


This is how we found the cake still on the floor where he'd pulled it right outta the fridge, got himself a spoon and helped himself to his heart's content.

This is the first place he upchucked all the cake hours later.

The last one million pukings have happened in his bed while he's been dead asleep the last few hours.
He of course puked the first time right next to my favorite pink fluffy slippers I just bought...which will be going in the washer after all the other puked-on sheets, towels and blankets have been cleaned. I sure wish my washer had a 'sanitize' setting, just in case all this ralphing wasn't solely due to the cake party Chase threw for himself this afternoon!
Thank goodness for a husband that can clean up puke over and over and not be very bothered.

I'm what my friend Katie calls a 'sympathy puker'. One whiff for me, and I'm a goner, I'm done for. But Eric, now that guy has a stomach of iron and says that he just 'doesn't breathe through his nose' when cleaning it up. Thank Heavens for that.