Baking Fail + Dave's Natural Charm

Well, the going has been good around here.  Surprisingly, Dave suggested we start a registry this weekend, so that is underway.  (I'm not sure if you know him, but he's not the registry type).  I think he jumped on the bandwagon when he realized how broke we'll be if we try to prepare for baby girl alone.

(Baby girl?!  Weird!) 

So, I told everyone about our big reveal dinner, but I left out the actual baking part.  I made strawberry cake from a box.  I'm not sure if you know this, but it's delicious.  The part you probably do know is that I'm not so talented in the kitchen. When I tried to get the cake onto the plate, this is what happened: 

Whoops!  My solution was to just try and jam the top back into the hole on the cake then glop a bunch of icing to cover it.  It turned into a very heavily iced cake.  Oh well, I like icing, too!  No one complained, either.  Probably because I distracted them with ultrasound pictures. 

Moving on.  My dad always said that he could tell when mom was pregnant because she would wake up one day and her butt would look bigger.  Such a charmer, I know.  Anyway, this little conversation just happened at my house:

Me: Is my butt getting bigger?

Dave: Little bit.

Me: That's so mean! 

Dave: What, did you want me to lie?!

Me: I just don't want it to get any bigger!


We have a long 20 weeks ahead of us.