booty cake

Today's my roommate, Edward's birthday. On the way to work I called and ordered a chocolate chip cookie (his favorite) from publix with balloons on it and a nice "happy birthday" message written in green and white icing. I pick it up on the way home, and when I walk in the door, nobody's home. But there's a strong smell of sugar throughout the house. I put the cookie on the dining room table and went into the kitchen and there was this clearly hand-made cake with candles and everything. I thought, oh, nice, his mother stopped by and made him a cake. He's prolly out to dinner with her.

Several hours later he gets home and I'm like... can I have some cake.... did your mom make it? He blushes.

"A trick made it."

I'm like ... what?

Apparently a trick from 3 years ago brought him the cake hoping to get/give a little sumptin' sumptin' this morning after I had left for work. "He called earlier this week and we talked and I let it slip today way my b-day."

..."so you had a good morning?"

"er... no. Nice guy, but he's like a clingy little puppy. For some reason he keeps calling, but I'm trying to be polite."

"So you let the puppy hump your leg then put him outside when he piddles on the floor.... you don't turn him away when he brings you baked goods."

Slicing the cake and eating a piece... i'm like... "Poor guy... gives you a cake and you don't even put out. And it's pretty good cake too..." I sigh... "Desperation is yummy."

My roommate was having none of it and was embarrassed it was in the house.

I wish he would have put out.... Then maybe next year, we'd get ice cream too. I do love cake and ice cream.