You know those mini sheet cakes at Trader Joe’s? The chocolate ones are dark and luscious looking but unfortunately, they are not super tasty. They aren’t awful though, and they do have equal parts frosting and cake, which I appreciate. I like to scrape the chocolate frosting off after a few bites because it’s getting too sweet. And then as I get to the finish line, I eat the discarded frosting by itself. That way it doesn’t count, really. It’s essentially clearing the plate for the dishwasher.
Only this cake isn’t even on a plate! It’s sold in a paper tray. The cake was baked in the tray, and you eat it out of this same, pitiful tray. There is no homemade love in the batter, and the frosting was applied by a machine! This is a grown-lady take on a package of gas station donuts. It says, I want to feel a little fancy while I eat my feelings for under five dollars. And there is no way you are serving this food item to guests. No. These cakes are for crying. It’s sad with a capital S -- Sad cake.
This realization came to me this morning while sitting on our bathroom floor. My fork was poised to take my first bite of some Sad tray-cake when I announced to Jeff, who was getting ready for work, “These cakes are made for sad people.”
Sitting on the bathroom floor, mainlining a chocolate cake may sound like the low point of a person’s day. But, not for me! This was simply a followup to my preceding activity: crying on the couch.
My son is leaving for college in a few days, and as tough and prepared as I think I am, everyday it’s the same story. There’s me, sitting somewhere in my house, with tears popping out of my scrunched up face. It’s usually in the morning, and it’s usually Jeff’s fault! He’ll say some bullshit about “There’s a lot going on.” and “It’s okay to feel emotional.” which inevitably produces a couple Kleenex worth of crying before I take a deep breath and move on.
Take this morning, for example. Jeff and I were talking about our day when I saw the list on the counter of things we still need to buy and pack for Zane’s college drop off in 4 days. (FOUR!) My eyes widened and I made an announcement: “It’s crying time.” as if I were a DJ introducing a country song on the radio.
“Did you just say ‘It’s crying time?”’
“Yup.”
I lay face down on the couch and took a bunch of deep breaths.
“Are you actually crying right now?”
“Yup.”
“Is it something I did?”
We chuckled a little and he handed me a tissue.
I cried until our daughter called from South Carolina and cheered us both up. She told us how she finally acquired a parking pass, and we laughed at her none-too-kind description of the characters involved.
When Darla was a toddler she was strong-willed and difficult to parent -- precocious, argumentative, contrarian, all of it. One day after preschool she questioned why I was correcting her behavior. I told her I was “trying to help her be a better person.” She responded loudly and dramatically, “What if this is as good as I get?!”
On the other hand, Zane was easy going and generally positive when he was a toddler. Back then we thought Darla would be our difficult teenager. But in high school, Zane kept us up at night, worrying and hoping he’d be alright with his crazy sleep schedule, his weird video games, his procrastination, and straight out refusal to do things the way I think they should be done. (!) And still the bottom line is. He has brought so much joy to my life. We have gobs of fun playing and coaching tennis. He can make me laugh about pretty much anything. And when I see him relating to other people, knowing just how to handle a situation, I’m so impressed. The hackneyed phrase “pride and joy” could’ve been coined about Zane.
Now he’s leaving home, as planned, and I’m afraid of losing touch because, like a typical guy, he’s not super communicative about day to day things. He doesn’t even have a social media account I could spy on! But maybe I’ll be surprised.
This waiting for him to leave feels like standing at the edge of the high dive at the pool. I know my nerves will regulate once we jump off and we need to JUMP ALREADY!
Everytime I see a friend they ask me, “How are you feeling about your empty nest?”
SHUDDUP! First of all, how do you think I’m feeling!? Why would you scrape that wound when it’s fresh? And second of all, do you really want me to tell you?
I’m crying face-down on the couch and eating chocolate cake out of a paper tray! That’s how I’m doing!? How are YOU doing?
In the end I say “Fine” because I’m out in these streets trying to forget for a while.
I stopped drinking gin about a week ago, thinking that would help with the crying. It did not. The crying is stronger than gin; it also requires chocolate. So when I saw this cake on the lonely, bottom shelf at the store, I bought it.
Once it was in my house I wrote a note of explanation right on the package:
Chocolate cake for me to eat when I’m sad, the note said.
But then I thought. What if someone else wants some? So I added,
or for you if you want cake
After my “This cake is for sad people” announcement in the bathroom today Jeff said, “That note on the cake is very confusing! Are you saying, ‘I bought this cake for me. So don’t eat any. But I can’t say that, so have some if you want it?’
“Or is it saying, ‘Don’t eat this cake. It’s for me?’
“Or ‘if you are sad, eat this cake?’
“I don’t understand the note.”
He’s right, the note is a little bonkers. Who writes notes of explanation on food?
A therapist told me once to write “I need help” on a piece of paper and put it on the counter if I couldn’t bring myself to admit my need out loud. The Sad cake note was reminiscent of a little cry for help, but it was also a reassurance that I was helping myself. I bought this cake for myself because I am struggling. And what is more helpful than chocolate cake? I ask you! My note also stemmed from the embarrassment of buying crappy, store bought cake. In our family cake isn’t cake unless it has real butter in it. My mom was always baking cakes worthy of a magazine cover which is, of course, why eating cake is so soothing to me.
Soon this transitional stress will all be a memory and I’ll have plenty of time to bake a proper chocolate cake from scratch. Goodness knows I’ll need some comfort next week, so I guess I better add butter and cocoa to that list of things to buy.
Thanks for reading!
I appreciate it, <3 ShannoNonni
LOVE this. I remember those feels