The Gift Of Encouragement

I remember the first time I told my Mom the publisher wanted me to go on a book tour for Cake Wrecks. She responded by telling me about an author she'd seen at a big warehouse store the previous weekend, sitting alone behind a card table and looking desperate.

"I just don't want that for you," she said.

...

Motherly concern aside, you could say my mom has a real gift for encouragement.

Kind of like these people:

"Oh, and happy engagement. I guess."

This is your moment. Enjoy it.

Q: What do you get the birthday girl who's allergic to birthday cake?

A: A birthday cake with an apology. ("More cake for us! Woot!")

As we get older, we look for signs from our loved ones that age is really just a number, it's about staying young at heart, etc, etc.

"Well, sure, NOW I am."

And there's nothing quite so encouraging as ill-concealed shock at your personal accomplishments:

"We had you guys pegged at two years, tops. Wow!"

And finally:

"Note that we haven't expressed any sadness over this fact, or stated whether Kyle is happy regarding his imminent departure. However, the fact that we're having cake would seem to indicate a celebration of Kyle's coming absence."

"Wow, you got all that from four words?!"

"No, I'm reading the card."

Thanks to Edmund H., Rachael G., Kim K., Sarah C., G.D., & Kyle C. for the encouraging words.

*****

Oh hey, this seems like a good time to remind you this exists:

Cake Wrecks, THE BOOK

It's totes hilarz, and I don't say things like "totes hilarz" in it even once.

*****

And from my other blog, Epbot:

Up All Night To Get "Lucky"

Ok, guys, I think it's time to go over the "guidelines" again for wishing someone good luck.

Sooo...

Well? Are ya, punk?

EXCELLENT.

Now,

Rule The First: Pick ONE sentiment and go with it.

It's either "Good Luck" or possibly "Get Lucky." Or, in this case, maybe "Get Lumpy." Heh.

(Anyone else want to stab that giant bump before it scurries away?)

Rule The Second: Watch your handwriting.

Believe it or not, a cursive capital L is the single most difficult letter in the entire known universe to write:

Which is probably why this baker tried for a cursive capital Q instead; sure, it looks bad, but at least it doesn't spell anything embarrassing:

Gentlemen, start your engines.

Of course, even if you nail the L, there's still that pesky U to contend with:

o.0

Yowza, "best of suck" and "good lick?" How much dirtier can an innocuous "good luck" cake get?!

I had to ask, didn't I.

Which brings us to:

Rule The Third: Mixing botched cursive letters with printed

ones is a sure-fire recipe for disaster.

Hilarious, awkward disaster:

Yeah, Christina. Try not to screw that up.

Thanks to Bethany P., Gail K., Jodee R., Kristine W., Amy S., Tracy M., & Christina W., who would not believe how often I see dirty good luck cakes. Or, ok, maybe you would.

*****

::shaking head:: All these cakes trying to say goodbye, when I've got you covered right here:

7-Ft "Later Traitor" Party Banner

*****

And from my other blog, Epbot: