My husband, Ross, turned the big 39 this week. He like to remind me that I’m older than he is. By like 6 months. Here’s the reality of the situation. He was 80 when I met him, so I don’t really care what that clock says, he will always be an old curmudgeon.
When I asked him, what kind of cake he wanted. This is how the conversation went (I’m paraphrasing, cause this was a while ago). #SorryNotSorry
Ross: I don’t want one of those fancy cakes. You know the ones you would get from Piece of Cake. There’s too much icing.
Me: So you basically want a Kroger cake?
Ross: Yes. That’s exactly it. I want a Kroger cake.
Okay, my friend. Ask and ye shall receive.
There you go. Kroger cake that may have been decorated by a teenager. It’s fine. I’m sure it takes exactly the same.