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I have a secret. It's a dirty little secret that my shock and enrage all who read it. You may wish to burn me in effigy after reading it, but I can't keep it from you any longer.
Here's the truth: I never liked cake growing up. Phew, that feels good to let out in the open.
The cake itself was tolerable, but not something I'd choose to eat. It was more the frosting. I hated frosting. With a passion. I've mentioned before my dislike of creamy things, and that might have had a hand in it. But it wasn't just the texture that threw me off. It was the sweetness. Nobody ever made their own frosting when I was growing up, so it was all that stuff from the can, and that stuff just turns my stomach. Put that on top of cake, which I didn't especially like to begin with, and there was no way that I was going to eat it.
So suffice it to say that I never actually ate birthday cake when I was growing up. When I decided to make "birthday cake" cupcakes for my sister-in-law's birthday, my image of birthday cake was a vanilla cake with a light, sweet vanilla frosting. If that doesn't remind anybody else of birthday cake, well you can deal with it.
But wait, there's more!