If you have children, you have probably been involved at some time with a fund-raising “cake auction”.  I can already hear the groans.

My son had joined a group who did a cake auction every year.  Since it was our first stab at this, we got out the rules to figure out exactly what was expected.  The rules said that the boy should design and make the cake with the help of his dad.  The purpose was to promote the father-son relationship, and to give the kid some sense of pride in a project he has worked on from start to finish. 

Secretly, I was glad I didn’t have to help, but knew I would also get a lot of laughs out of watching the spectacle of the two of them in the kitchen together.  This was a great idea.

My husband can cook some stuff really well, like barbecue chicken, but when I told him he and Walter would be making a cake, well, his face sorta froze.  But they attacked the project with zeal,and finished with a pretty neat looking little cake which was supposed to look like the Astrodome.  It hadn’t risen evenly, so it kind of leaned to one side, but boy were they proud!

We arrived at the cake auction at the appointed time.  My son’s face beamed. 

Then the other cakes started to arrive.  It was obvious some people hadn’t read the rules. 

I mean, these cakes must have taken days to build.  Some were so fancy, I’d be afraid to eat them.  There were several big castles, and a mother was putting the finishing touches on one of them – the moat made of jello.  I asked one of the dads which cake he had helped make and he just laughed.

“I wasn’t allowed to touch it!” he bellowed.

They voted on “Best Cake” and “Best Theme” and stuff like that.  They had a special category called “Mostly Likely Made by the Boy”, 

I had to pick my jaw up off the floor.  I mean, weren’t they all supposed to be “made by the boy”?  What about the rules?

Instead, I think they should have the category “Most Likely Never Touched by the Boy”.