After the Call Me Cake incident this past Valentine's Day... I decided early on I was going to buy my own birthday cake. I wanted a good, expensive cake this year. Three layers. Heavy. Substantial. Stuff on top. I wanted to pick it out myself.
I was actually happy about looking for the perfect one.
I shopped around online for a bakery in Atlanta and came across Piece of Cake in Buckhead.
I asked Jimmy which flavor he would choose... he said Oreo. Veto.
I asked him what his second option would be. Orange. Veto.
I went with this beauty. A 9 inch, 3-layer white chocolate cake with cream cheese frosting and pecans sprinkled on top. I mean, whaaaaa... if it tastes as good as it looks we'll be in good shape.
Because Jimmy and I tend to do things the night before, we cut ourselves a little sliver sliver before he went off to bed.
So worth it.
So worth that dang $34 I could have put towards the water bill.
Even Jimmy asked why the nurse got a bigger piece than he did.
Oh, I'm pretty positive an oreo cake wouldn't have treated him quite as well.