My hunny loves cake.
Let me expand upon that a bit: if he was on death row his final meal would be nothing but cake – with buttercream frosting - but, ONLY the kind made from the recipe on the back of the C&H Powdered Sugar box (that is very important).
This past Christmas (when I was making fudge, and baking oodles of cookies and dipping candies) his only concern was “When will there be cake?” (Really? Because where I come from there isn’t usually “Christmas Cake” – just sayin’.)
There is a special cake he likes to have as his birthday cake – it has Oreos in it and on it. I bake it special every year (he only gets this cake on his birthday - no other time during the year). It is HIS CAKE. As in, if you touch his cake, and he catches you - you are dead, and no one will ever find a body.
You get the picture, right? He LOVES cake. Like *love*, loves it. A lot.
Today, he told me he loves me “more than cake.”
I am not at all confident that I know how to handle this situation!! The man says loves me “more than cake”!! That’s sorta like an addict loving something more than his drugs…or a hard-core Trekkie (the kind that wear the uniform and Spock ears) loving something more than Star Trek.
This. Is. Big.
This is bigger than big…this is life-changing!
We may have to “next level” this thing!