Not Even In My King Cake

I have a confession.

I ate nearly a whole king cake.

Are you familiar with the king cake?  I think it originated in New Orleans as a Mardi Gras tradition, but I’m sure as I’m too lazy to even look at my own link :)  All I know is it has to be Southern since I had never heard of it until I moved to Texas.

Anyway, its a super yummy cake that the BIL bought his wife (and us) in celebration of their new move to Texas.  I was so happy when they brought it home, mostly because like children’s cereal, there’s a surprise inside! And I love surprises.

See, inside the king cake is a little baby.  I didn’t even know what the little baby means, something about good luck?  You get to buy the cake next year?  I could have cared less.  I just wanted to be the one to get the baby.

And I knew I would be!  And it would be a confirmation, some sort of sign that my real baby is on its way too.

“Knowing” I would find the baby slowly turned into “Well, if I eat enough of it my odds are statistically higher than everyone else”.  That was good enough for me too.  I’ll take my divine signs any how I can get them.

That cake really did sit on our counter for almost 2 weeks.  And I kept eating it every day.  Determined to get the baby. A little sliver here, a piece for lunch.  I kept at it.  And I didn’t find the baby.

Until there was only a tiny sliver left.  Of COURSE the baby would be in the last piece left.  The only sliver I didn’t eat.  Just my luck!

So I protested.  I didn’t want the baby anymore.  Sour grapes.  Since at this point I was pretty much the only person still eating the cake (not only was it incredibly sweet to begin with, but now it was stale), I left it there.  Tiny little baby holding sliver. Ensue pity party. Of course that would happen to me.

And then a funny thing happened.  My husband (a.k.a the human trash compactor) ate that last piece this morning.  And the baby wasn’t in there either.

Oh great, I thought, so there wasn’t even a baby to begin with!  I didn’t even have a CHANCE!

Extrapolating previous analogy, I guess this didn’t bode well for my chances at a real life baby either.

And then, as he was cleaning up the box and putting it in the trash can, he asked me if he could throw it all away, including the little packet of mardi gras beads.

Sure, why not, I said, and as he held it out, I glanced at it for a second.  Wait. What’s that thingy?  Guess what I found.

The baby.  Wrapped up in plastic to the side, not actually inserted in this king cake.

Silly me, trying to make analogies of the king cake to my life.  “I can’t even get a baby in a king cake!”

And it turns out the baby was in a plastic baggie the whole time.

What kind of analogy can I make from that?

Kind of creepy, huh?

I think I’ll stop looking for divine signs and just go back to trusting God.


13 thoughts on “Not Even In My King Cake

  1. That is a very creepy plastic baby! :) I have never heard of a king cake, but I have definitely done my fair share of trying to decide what this or that thing “meant”, especially with regards to my state in life. I love your last sentence; I may need to tape it up somewhere to remind myself.

  2. Haha, I would’ve been the same way. Don’t feel too bad. I’ll think about possible analogies for the baby in the plastic…

  3. I totally would’ve been with you eating that stale cake determined to find the baby! Now to think of plastic baby analogies… it comes along when and where you least expect it? I think your last sentence is probably the best lesson to learn, even though it can be frustrating.

  4. That is lame that they didn’t bake it into the cake.
    Haven’t you heard of dia de los reyes and rosca de reyes? Also do you remember 3 Kings Day in Belgium? It’s all the same idea.

    • yeah I’ve heard of dia de los reyes but I still don’t get the connection to the cake? and no, I never heard of the day while I was in Belgium either…I was only there 3 years…

  5. I used to think it was lame that they don’t bake the baby into the cake…until I handed a piece of one to my 2 year old.

    On another note, I can’t believe it took you 2 weeks to finish off a king cake. Sure, Charlotte and Fred helped, but I’m fairly certain the one we had here lasted about 4 days…

    Glad you decided you won’t find God’s plan in a pastry.

    • about taking two weeks….I KNOW. but honestly I was really the only one eating the cake. I think it was too sweet for everyone else. plus I was out of town for a weekend so you got to give me a little credit!

      wouldn’t it be so much easier if I COULD find it in a pastry?? ::sigh:: it might save me some heartache.

  6. I think that I would have gotten frustrated after the first day of not finding it and just turned the cake over and cut around the bottom looking for the baby. You actually have more patience than I do!

    I am still bewildered by why king cakes are around from Epiphany to Lent. I get the Epiphany part, but I don’t understand why the entire first part of Ordinary Time is supposed to be Mardi Gras.

    The lesson that I learn from this is that eating cake has nothing to do with the timing of when you actually get your baby. :-) See? I’m profound.

  7. Hello. I have been reading your blog for a couple weeks now (i found you through Elizabeth’s blog. i have known Elizabeth since the 3rd grade).

    Anyways, as a New Orleans native I felt compelled to delurk and share my knowledge of Kings Cake (yes, there is an “s” after king – no apostrophe)

    the tradition of the Kings Cake started before the 12th centruy, but the cake became more notible around this time. The traditional cake started in France and was baked on the eve of January 6 to celebrate the Three Wise Men (Kings) visit to Baby Jesus. When France began to settle in Louisiana in the 18th century they carried this tradition over and now remains a part of the Catholic Epiphany and also eventually becoming an element of the Mardi Gras season. the first cake of the season is made January 6 and the last being baked on Fat Tuesday (Mardi Gras Day).

    As far as the little baby goes, it represents the Christ Child. The plastic baby Jesus was baked into the cake among the twists and turns of the dough for you to find as this symbolizes the 3 Kings having a hard time finding Jesus.

    the colors of the sugar, purple, green, and gold also are catholic symbols!
    purple means Faith
    green means Justice
    Gold means Power

    unfortunatly the plastic baby Jesus is no longer baked into cakes because of lawsuits. its an unfortunate as the hunt for the plastic baby is such a wonderful tradition.

    i hope this helps!

  8. Rae, i think can answer your question!

    Mardi Gras, literally “Fat Tuesday,” has grown in popularity in recent years as a raucous, sometimes hedonistic event. But its roots lie in the Christian calendar, as the “last hurrah” before Lent begins on Ash Wednesday. Carnival comes from the Latin words carne vale, meaning “farewell to the flesh.” That’s why the enormous party in New Orleans, for example, ends abruptly at midnight on Tuesday, with battalions of streetsweepers and police pushing the crowds out of the French Quarter towards home.

    Contrary to popular belief New Orleanians are very protective of the true meaning and symbols of mardi gras which as stated are rooted in Catholism. While we are champs at drinking and catching beads and enjoying life, we admoish any body baring or any hedonist acts that are in violation of our religious faith. media and word of mouth about new orleans mardi gras have unfortunatly marred the true sense of the season.

  9. i think you were looking for excuses to be a little piggie. just kidding. next time i see you i will try to hide a baby in your food and see if you really like it .. crunch!

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