Let me take you back to what should’ve been one of the best days of my tiny little life: my birthday. I was probably two or three – toddler-aged, adorable, innocent, and living my best main character life as people sang “Happy Birthday” to me. All eyes were on me. The candles were lit. The vibes were immaculate. I was the star.
And then…
WHAM.
Face-first into the cake.
And not in a “lean in and take a cute little bite” way. No. A full-grown adult relative – one of my dad’s cousins – shoved my little face into the cake with the kind of reckless joy that should honestly be saved for prank shows and frat parties, not toddler birthdays. I don’t remember everything (I was basically still learning how to exist), but I do remember the cold, sticky frosting up my nose and the laughter that followed.
Cue the trauma.
What is this tradition, seriously? Like, what ancient scroll decided this would be the way to show love at birthday parties in some Mexican households? And why do people do it with such conviction? Are you possessed? Is it the tres leches? Be honest.
Now, I’m not saying I hold a full-on grudge. I still say hi to that cousin if I see her, because manners. But deep down, every time I do, there’s a faint whisper in my soul that says: “You ruined my birthday before I could even cut my slice.”
I don’t even remember if my parents said anything to her – maybe they did, maybe they just focused on calming me down, maybe they were like, “It’s tradition!” But if I ever become a parent, and someone pulls that on my kid? There will be consequences. And no, not in a vague, passive-aggressive way. I mean you’re going home early and not getting any cake.
And honestly? If I ever meet a new person – friend, coworker, random mom at the park – and they say something like, “Omg I love shoving people’s faces into cake at parties,” just know I will be excusing myself from that friendship immediately. Like… respectfully, get behind me, Satan.
It’s not cute. It’s not quirky.
It’s one glitter hat away from a demonic ritual.
If your idea of celebrating someone’s life involves assault-by-frosting, you’re not invited to mine.
Ever.
Catch me blowing out my candles with one eye open.
🌻Love, Loops