Plaid Pajama Pants and Black Forest Gateau: A Wedding Story

There is no end to the stories I could tell about our wedding day. The “proposal,” the snow, the plaid pajama pants in our photos… Really, the day was magical in that Liam-magic sort of way. Today, for our 9th anniversary, I’ll share another.

For this story, I have to tell the punch line first. Then I’ll explain. Because every joke is better when you have to explain it, right?

Last night, before drifting off to sleep, Liam asked me, “Do you know what should have been happening at this time nine years ago?”

I thought long and hard, coming up with stuff like, “We should have been going to different houses to sleep,” or, “We should have thrown those plaid pajama pants away.”

Over and over, he shook his head. Finally, he took pity and said, “My groom’s cake should have been in the oven.”

See, we had a small, quick wedding. The cakes were a bit of an afterthought, one supplied by my parents just so we’d have at least a few traditional things here and there. There was a small bride’s cake with two layers, and then there was Liam’s requested Black Forest Gateau. Yes, he always calls it gateau.

After the short wedding and the drive through the snow to the mountains for our tiny, tiny, tiny reception, we dug into the champagne (in dollar-store flutes) and cake. Liam totally bypassed the bride’s cake and attacked the chocolate and cherries.

And then he made this face. Not the face that says, “Ewwwwwww.” Rather, I think, the face that says, “I don’t know exactly how to make Black Forest Gateau, but I don’t think this is it.”

He struggled through a few more bites and then switched to the other cake. Later, he said the gateau was way too moist for his liking. I tried a bit and agreed. It was kind of…gummy. But we took it home with us anyway and put in the fridge like we might consider eating another piece.

Then I got the great idea that I might heat it up and eat it like a cherry-chocolate cobbler with some ice cream. I stuck the bowl of “cobbler” in the microwave and two minutes later pulled out a big, fluffy piece of Black Forest Gateau.

The baker had seriously forgotten to bake our cake. And Liam has never, ever let me forget it.

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