Right when I finished the face, the phone rang. I went upstairs to talk, and after 15 minutes, realized I hadn't heard from my little guy the whole time. I went downstairs, and he had a stool pulled up to the counter, and was leisurely poking and prodding at his cake, adding more Whoppers to random places. The poor cow ended up with about 6 Whopper eyes, but I couldn't really remove them without messing the cake up even more, so I just left them.
Now the poor cow cake is even wierder looking, but at least it's tasty, and the birthday boy seemed to like it. He didn't actually eat any.... he was too busy playing with new toys. My kids don't seem to actually eat their birthday cake until they're 4 or 5. Oh well, the rest of us enjoyed it!
(I'm kinda scared this cake might end up on that sad/wierd/scary cakes-gone-wrong blog!)
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