Bunny Cake

When I was in the third grade my school had a fair at the end of the year to raise money. Part of the fair was going to be a cakewalk and most of the kids got their mothers to bake something for it. Claire Winston, the rich, pretty girl that everyone envied, brought to school a special bunny cake that her mother had made.

The bunny cake was amazing. It must have been three feet long with giant ears and a bowtie. It was covered in white frosting outlined with blue. The bunny face had gumdrops for eyes, nose and mouth and licorice whiskers.

The whole class coveted the bunny cake and we knew Claire must have the perfect life and family. I imagined being Claire that day. The perfect mom waiting after school to drive you home in the Jaguar. Arriving home then taking a swim in the backyard pool that overlooks the entire valley, while mom makes pork chops and dad watches the evening news. I wanted that cake so bad. It would be like having a small piece of perfection for my very own.

On the day of the fair I was given two dollars and told to have fun. I was allowed to walk to the fair alone because my family only lived a few blocks away. I arrived at the fair before it began and waited anxiously for the cakewalk to start.

When it finally opened I spent half my money on a ticket that would let me take three turns. The first time around the circle I landed on number seven and they called number six. The old woman in front of me chose a pineapple upside down cake from the table of goodies. There was still hope.

Another person took the old woman’s spot, the music started again and we all walked around the circle. This time I landed on number twelve and they called twenty-five. The teenage girl who won walked to the winner’s table and looked over the cakes. She started to grab the bunny cake and my heart sank. Suddenly, she changed her mind and took a seven layer chocolate cake instead. I still had a chance!

Her spot was filled and the music started again. This time I landed on twenty-three. I closed my eyes and crossed my fingers. They called out number twenty-three. I had won! I almost fainted. I ran to the prize table and claimed the bunny cake. I didn’t bother to stay for any more of the fair. Beaming with pride I walked home with my prize and snuck it into my room. This cake was going to be mine and mine alone.

After admiring the bunny cake for several minutes I decided to start by eating one of the ears. I put a huge forkful in my mouth. The cake was some kind of apple-spice and completely awful. The bunny cake was totally stale, the frosting tasted like it was all butter and cream with no sugar, even the gumdrop face and licorice whiskers were rock hard and not worth eating.

I ran into Claire Winston a month later at the Circle K. She was sitting in the front of a U-Haul with her arm hanging out the window while her dad bought some cigarettes. I walked up to the van and said, "Hey Claire. Is your family moving?"

"Yeah." She said. "My parents got a divorce and my dad and I are moving to Idaho. Hey, didn’t you win the bunny cake my mom baked for the school fair?"

"Yeah. It was good." I lied

"Really?" Claire asked surprised

"Well, actually it was horrible. I couldn’t eat it."

"I hate them too." She giggled. "My mom makes one of those cakes every Easter. I can’t stand them. My mom’s a really bad cook."

Then her dad got in the van and they drove away. Claire’s life was like that bunny cake. That’s the moment I realized and really learned, appearances can be deceiving and it’s what on the inside that really counts.

If you would like to know how I made this picture click HERE!

How are your insides? How would you like to leave some love?