Tuesday, August 12, 2008


If it can happen to me it can happen to anyone.

I pride myself on many things. Like my ability to procrastinate, my many times confirmed Huge Junk, or my long dexterous fingers. (Hear that ladies?)

I also feel like I can blend in well and, if need be, blend myself right into obscurity. I thought I had the right mix going this past weekend. I was wrong.

My friends Ryan and Lisa were celebrating the birthday of their now two year old son. He's like a tiny human being already, and seems to be growing into his gigantic head quite nicely. I was worried there for a while.

His cousins were there, Zach at age 7 and Ash (Ashley, Ashlynn, or something) at age 4. Ryan introduced me to them both while they shot hoops in the driveway using one of those 4 foot tall kid hoops. I would totally dominate Zach later while he was trying to dunk. NOT ON (FAKE) UNCLE BRACELET'S WATCH! Gotta learn about losing early, I always say while beating little kids at games.

Anyhow, Ash and I shook hands and not five minutes later she pointed at me and asked who I was. I said, "I'm Bob, nice to meet you."

God obviously hates this little boy as he brought rain down off and (mostly) on, causing the party to retreat indoors on multiple occasions. We finally settled inside for good, using the close quarters to do presents. I bought the little guy a Michael Jordan track suit. He's going to look pimp.

It was about his time that Ash kept wandering over to where I was sitting, which happened to be next to her dad. Each time she walked by I'd say, "Hi, I'm Bob." and she'd say "Hi, bob!" back.

I was getting a kick out of it, and really, if hanging with kids and using their awe and lack of understanding about the world as comedy fodder isn't what adults are supposed to be doing then I don't wanna be an adult. Hmph.

So he gets all of his presents, none of them holding a candle to my offering.

Nerf balls? Seriously?
Non-ironic t-shirt? Honestly?

How long has it been since you people cashed it in?

The birthday song is belted and the birthday boy finally musters a successful attempt at blowing out the candle on his cake.


For those of you unaware of what Cake Rape is, let me fill you in.

At every party that involves cake, someone inevitably decides that everyone should have a piece of cake. No exceptions. He or she becomes the Cake Rapist, pushing slices of unwanted cake on you. "I don't like cake" you may say, but it doesn't matter. "C'mon! Everyone likes cake!" they reply.

It's just a small piece...
No thanks.
C'mon just have a piece, it's really good. Kathy made it.
Nah, I don't really like cake all that much.
Who doesn't like cake?
Um, me. I don't like cake.
Don't be foolish. Here have some cake.

And just like that you've been Cake Raped.

I wandered into the kitchen and grabbed a drink. I figured if I stayed away from the table long enough to let everyone get served it might be easier to stand firm against whoever decided to Cake Rape me.

Who was it going to be, I pondered.

Was it going to be Ryan's wife, Lisa? She's technically the host, I thought. No, I decided. Too concerned with the little guy and making sure everything was kept somewhat clean and efficient.

Ryan's mom? No way. She knows me way too well. Hell, she makes me a Bob kaBob when I eat at her place, consisting of a bamboo stick full of nothing but delicious meat products. No way she would Cake Rape me. She knows better.

Not Lisa's cousin, father, sister or brother-in-law, I figured. None of them seemed to eager to get in the mix. They were just along for the ride.

No, it had to be Lisa's mom, I thought. Motherly, and from the era where you brought cake to the neighbor when they moved in. Surely she'd try to Cake Rape me and I was counting on my relative anonymity to get me through. She knows me, and has met me on numerous occasions, but I'm still kind of the foreign guy at the party.

In the end I was standing patiently in the kitchen when I hear Ash ask where I am and Ryan reply, "He's in the kitchen, why don't you go get him."

Four year old Ash totally Cake Raped me.

I had to sit next to her and eat while she ate. Later she'd get a present for herself (stickers) and when asked if she'd like to open them, she instead immediately tracked me down to hand them over as she said, "Hi Bob!"

I'd been Cake Raped and claimed by a four year old girl. Probably her first crush.


Everything was pretty funny as she'd grab my hand and lead me around the party, instructing me where to sit. That is until she put down her plate of cake she'd been randomly working on, stood up and grabbed my hand, and said...

"I gotta go poop."

1 comment:

mike said...

uncle bracelet is changing Mia's first diaper! It's a date! Keep in mind the first one is the gooiest!