Basketball, Cakes and Vanity

Perhaps this post will be the yin to a previous post’s yang.

Nearly three months ago, we began playing intramural basketball. I am pleased to announce that we have now won a game.

Fortunately for us, it came during an elimination game in the consolation bracket of our double-elimination tournament. Unfortunately for an injured Rainbow Sock Man and his unlucky lemmings, it means another team’s intramural basketball season is over.

Immediately after the game, I scampered home to prepare for the Family Fun Festival, a fundraiser to build an elementary playground. The fun began just an hour after our basketball game. My friend and I took photos of whomever we could lure in for two tickets a piece. Unfortunately, we were competing with the cakewalk on the stage behind us. I tried to reason with kindergarteners, middle-schoolers and the like, explaining that for one ticket they could have a chance at scoring themselves a cake, but for two tickets they were guaranteed to capture a fun memory of the Family Fun Festival. I do not remember whether my logic worked on anyone; I do remember that one kindergartener saw me and ran away screaming.

Fortunately, two bona fide kindergarten teachers relieved us of our picture-taking responsibilities after an hour and a half.

At that point, my friend and I purchased our own tickets. After allocating an armful of tickets for dinner and cotton candy, we had four remaining tickets.

I told my friend to join me on the cakewalk.

The cakewalk was even lamer than expected, as it turned out to be a music-less cakewalk. Nevertheless, my friend and I were in it for the thrill of the chase—in pursuit of the ever-elusive winning cakewalk number. During Round One, we walked around the cakewalk circle until they told us to stop, at which point neither of our numbers was called. With two tickets left for Round Two, we tried again. Again, when the music normally would have stopped, they called neither of our numbers. This time, however, they drew numbers not once, not twice, but three times, and still neither my friend nor I were ever seated in chairs with cake-winning numbers.

Only a few minutes remained in the Family Fun Festival. Perhaps because several cakes remained, or perhaps because the master of cakewalk ceremonies pitied us, we were summoned to pick out a cake to take home with us, regardless of whether we had actually won. I perused the cake selection and, after inspecting several cakes, cookies and other sundry desserts, reclaimed the remaining half of the cake I had baked and donated to the cakewalk. That’s right: I chose my own cake over all the others.

By the next morning, my friends and I had devoured my cake. The next evening, I made another similar cake, and most of it was also promptly devoured. Even the person who once compared my cake to “vicious scabies” ate and was satisfied.