It all started when B had a brilliant idea to make a volcano cake for Peanut’s hula-themed birthday party.
Of course, I reacted the way most sane people respond to a high-pressure creative imperative: I tweeted about it.
Two days before the party, we started baking.
Sadly, the vanilla bundt didn’t make it. *sniffle*
We rebounded by making more chocolate rounds. The next day, we were ready to stack them into a mountain of fudge-y deliciousness.
There were a few tense moments while B and I were shaping the mountain. I kept wanting to cut more off of the cake. B wanted to take a more conservative approach. At one point I thought, “I swear to God, if you say ‘I’m uncomfortable with that’ one more time, you’re gonna be wearing this mountain.” But I didn’t say it. Because I am what we call a moral giant.
With our mountain ready and an epic marital fail avoided, it was time to add the lava.
And now, without further ado, I give you……………THE CAKE OF VOLCANO FABULOUSNESS!!
BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE!
B is a genius and fashioned a way for the cake to actually SMOKE. It involved a plastic cup at the top of the cake, some water, and a dry ice.
Needless to say, when we started singing “Happy Birthday” and Peanut saw a smoking volcano cake in front of her, the look was priceless.
The cake was a smash hit and we had a great time at the party. But later, we realized that we had a 15 pound bag of dry ice laying around with no purpose for it.
….until we spied the filled baby pool in the front yard.
We looked at each other and thought, “what’s the worst that could happen?”
I’m just glad nobody called Homeland Security.