Lately, I've noticed my blogs have been a little heavy.  Let's have a laugh at my expense then expand.

Yesterday, I went to Sam's club to get gas and pick up some baking necessities and afterwards I drove over to Aldi to see if they had shortening because Kroger and everywhere else has Crisco at $6.99 per can and only six months ago it was $3.99 - I'm trying to save a few pennies.  As soon as I walked into Aldi I realized that it was a dumb move not putting on any underwear that morning and my grey sweatpants were no match to hide the unexpected erection I got as soon as I walked in the door.  I mean, I love a good deal but I've never gotten that excited about it.  There was no way to hide this or ease it down, either.  So I walked around the store with my hand in my pocket holding my tallywhacker against my stomach - because that was SO much less obvious something was awry.  As I'm walking down the aisle trying to steer my cart I had to poke a quarter in to retrieve, and having not much luck making a straight line, I overheard a woman telling someone about her cat knocking off a cake she'd made and that was why she was there buying the ingredients to make another.  I started to laugh.  Her story reminded me of one I'd heard around the dinner table maybe 10 years ago when I was home visiting.  Aldi didn't have any shortening so I parked my basket, took my quarter, and got in my car and headed home...still laughing to myself about an incident with a cake, a cat, and my grandmother and her siblings sometime back in the 50's.

My grandmother and her sisters were all attractive and fairly particular on their appearance but my grandmother, Virginia, was the most particular person I've even known.  You could barely snub out a cigarette before she was emptying the ashtray and one of my cousins told me when she would visit my grandparents when she was a kid that you could barely get your panties pulled up before my grandmother was in there scrubbing out the toilet.  She looked as fresh when she got home from a full day of work at 5:00pm as she did when she left the house at 6:00am.  Her sister, Louise, was asked by her husband one night if she was going to get up in the morning to make breakfast for him before he headed to the deer woods and she said "shit".  Virginia gets up and makes Raleigh breakfast for him because she loves him; "Carol, 'Virginur' makes his breakfast because she doesn't want anyone messing up her kitchen, damn.  Knock yourself out."  You get the picture.

In 1951, my mother and her cousin, Linda, went back to Myrtle Beach on the train from south Arkansas with their aunt (by marriage) Mary Sue to visit with she and Uncle Pee Wee.  When it was time for them to come home, my grandparents headed out there to pick them up - with a carload of family on the trip as well.  Sisters Louise, Zaddie, and their mother, Grandma Knight.  Unofficially, and officially, Pee Wee was their favorite.  They headed out there in a 1942 Plymouth and while they were out there my grandfather bought a new 1951 Mercury - not sure if he was just that spontaneous or if there was car trouble along the way but they bought a new car.  At dinner one night as they were all sitting around the table there was a german's chocolate cake Mary Sue had made placed on the sideboard behind where my grandmother was sitting and Louise was sitting directly across from her at the table.  Louise noticed the cat jump up on the sideboard and then STEP OVER the cake and then jump down.  She said nothing...until it was time to cut and serve the cake.  As my grandmother cut her first piece and was bringing the bite to her mouth, Louise shouted "Virginur, don't eat that!  The cat drug his balls across the top!"  She very gently put her fork down and just stared at her plate.  Everyone of course lost their shit.  Mary Sue asked why she would say that and Louise told her that she saw it happen and Pee Wee chimed in "Goddammit Marsu, that tomcat will fuck anything including our dessert" and then he grabbed the cat and threw it out the window.  I hope they lived on the first floor but it really wouldn't have mattered if they hadn't.

So, when we have a german's chocolate cake at a family gathering, it's call a "Cat ball cake".