Last week while Christmas shopping, Baby Sis pointed to the Red Velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting and said to me and Oldest Daughter, “Just what is this?”
“Well, it is Christmas,” I replied. “and Red Velvet Cake is a part of the holiday color scheme and tradition.”
“Are you kidding me?” shrieked my youngest.
Oldest Daughter burst into her characteristic laughter as she observed the expression on her sister’s face.
“I know what she is thinking,” said my first born.
“You’re dang straight you know what I am thinking,” cried her incensed youngest sibling.
“Dad always told us that we could only bake Red Velvet cake in June. He said it only would rise well in the early summer months or something along that line. Otherwise, it would be a failure.”
Oldest Daughter howled with hilarity as her sister chuckled and snickered. I stood there with a silly smirk on my face.
“Your dad made the Red Velvet a special treat for my birthday,” I defended him.
“Well, quit making excuses for him,“ Baby Sis chastised. “He just lied to us so he would not have to make it more than once per year.”
“You have to admit that once per year was a really special event. We made the cake last several days because we knew it would be the last for another an entire 12 months.” I attempted to counter.
Baby Sis looked at me with the most incredulous expression. “Humpf!” was all she would reply.
Oldest daughter added, “Well, he did make it from scratch, and it was time consuming.”
Her sister reflected on that memory before she added, “He wouldn’t let us around him while he baked it, though. I wanted to help.”
“He didn’t want your hands in the way,” her older sister said through tears of laughter.
Baby Sis changed the direction of the conversation by asking, “Since there are commercial-grade Red Velvet cupcakes and other treats, I suppose other people know the secret in making it?”
“What secret?” Oldest Daughter asked. “You merely make it like any other cake. Follow the recipe.”
“WHHAAT?” Baby Sis moaned. “You mean all these years I thought it took special knowledge to bake it? I could have been making Red Velvet cakes on my own?”
“I understand there is now a Red Velvet cake mix which tastes like the one made from scratch,“ I told her.
“Oh, Lord,” she said not irreverently. “Is there no justice?”
Oldest daughter nearly choked on her own hysterics.
I saw her reach for her constant-companion cell phone. “Listen to this,” I heard her as she began the conversation with their brother, Crown Prince.
“Your other sister just now found out that Dad lied to us about making Red Velvet Cake. No, I am not kidding. She believed him when he said he could only bake it in June.’
The three of us heard him laugh on the other end of the phone.
“Now she knows,” was his comment when he finally caught his breath.
Baby Sis announced, “I am going to make a Red Velvet Cake for Christmas, and then I am going to ask him what else he lied to me about.”
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