The Prize on the Bottom

See? Dresses. Pfff . . .

Birthdays are magic.
Truly.
Oh, and chew your cake carefully. You never know what's in it.
Maybe I should explain . . .
My friend was turning six.
And I was invited to her birthday party!
A whole year away.
Okay, it probably wasn't a year. Likely only a few days, but time mooooves reeeaaalllyyy slooowllly when one is six and waiting for a birthday party.
Finally, it was time.
I not-so-patiently submitted to being scrubbed shiny.
Then scampered across the hallway to my bedroom and dug out my favourite jeans and western shirt.
Mom followed me, laying a frilly dress on my bed while I donned the requisite undies.
Wait. What? I have to wear a dress?!
I stared at her, my six-year-old face the picture of dismay.
I'm remembering this how I want . . .
Mom insisted, so I again submitted, this time under protest. I'm sure my arguments included some or all of: "I can't play in that!" or "I look like a freak!" or "It's too squishy!" or my patented "None of the other kids will be wearing dresses!"
A note here: All the other girls were wearing dresses. Traitors.
A short time later, I appeared in the front hallway pressed, dressed and combed (Incidentally another thing I hated.) and ready for excitement.
Just so you know, I can't remember whose birthday it was, or what we did.
I'm quite sure it was fun. And featured the requisite games, gift opening and ooh-ing and aah-ing.
There is one thing that really stands out in my mind.
The cake.
Angel food.
We were each given a large slice on a fancy plate.
And that's when the magic happened.
In the bottom of my piece was a little toy.
I'm not making this up.
There really was a toy in the bottom of everyone's piece. Wrapped in a tiny piece of waxed paper and baked right into the cake!
Genius!
I carefully released my toy, and ate the cake.
Then spent the rest of the party playing with my little trinket.
Now looking back on this with adult eyes, I realize that the toy was probably made of metal, otherwise it would have melted.
And maybe painted with lead-based paint, which none of us knew about in 1961.
Yikes.
All I knew was that there was a toy baked into my piece of cake and that was the coolest thing ever.
Ever.
And just so you know, I still look at the bottom of my piece of cake.
Every time.
Even when I've made it.
You never know when the magic will happen.