Our grandson’s 5th birthday was a wonderful excuse to host a party. The sun usually shines on his special day and our garden is a fair size, so plenty of room for the little ones to play and their grownups to have a chat. Our home hasn’t seen so many people since before Covid, and it was lovely to hear the sound of music and several voices socialising around the place again.

Organising it was fun. Lists were drawn up by my daughter and myself. Party bags, games, prizes, balloons, and a few activities to be set up on the lawn. There was only one problem; we aren’t confident cooks.

Supermarkets sell party food, but what about a cake, especially the personalised kind? I lovingly made a bumble bee type decades ago whose paper doily wings looked cute until we lit the candles. They caught alight causing a mini pyrotechnic show until smothered with a damp tea towel. The cake had started out looking beautiful, but practical, no. Thankfully, it was still edible.

The memory still haunts me, so it was accepted this year’s should be bought, but titivated by us. We are quite good at that sort of thing. Not chocolate or jam-filled ones. Vanilla would be fine, and my favourite store came up trumps.

A few days before the event, I discovered it would be Lego-themed and offered to paint the plaster cast Lego man cake ornament my daughter had made. I relished the task, a happy reminder of my ceramic-making days when I decorated all manner of pottery. Photos were sent to me to show how the finished figure should look wearing a similar outfit to the party boy. I loved the idea, but what if I messed the project up?

Happy birthday to you… everyone sang. My grandson’s face beamed as he blew the candles out, secured in brick-shaped holders. Then the star of the day lifted the Lego man out of the jelly bean dotted icing and held him up. Everyone agreed that the jeans and top were like our grandson’s attire. And as they began to chomp, someone piped up. “The cake tastes delicious, is it homemade?”

Well, what could I say?

Until next time,
Sue. X