Comedic Labor Cakes

In 1966 my husband Bob and I were stationed at James Connally Air Force Base in Waco, Texas. I was already pregnant with our first child when we arrived that year. We spent our months there in furnished base housing. The base was due to close the following year which meant most of the airmen had been or were soon to be reassigned. In fact, soon after we arrived, we had our orders for George AFB in California. George is where our second daughter was born, which was another dry and desolate place to live, but I digress;

Waco, Texas — where flies grow to the size of hummingbirds and will bite you! — is a dry dry land, located in central Texas, in fact the town is nicknamed ”The Heart of Texas”  because of its location.  If I recall, Texas was experiencing a heat wave in 1966. If not a heat wave, it was the closest thing to one I’d experienced in a long time because it was awfully hot that summer with temperatures reaching well into the high nineties and low one-hundreds. Except for the people I met on base I did not find much to be thankful for in the city of Waco, Texas. But, my military sisters were some really remarkable, fun-loving, providers of constant comic relief, overly protective of new Mum’s tummy (er mine), and exceptionally supportive women I’ve ever met. They all became my close friends, for a time.

One Saturday my husband Bob, encouraged me to ride with him over to his commander’s housing a few streets away from ours. He insisted I go with him to ‘keep him company’ and that we’d go do something after. Really? Keeping Bob company? I was mighty suspicious — and proven correct; it was actually a surprise Baby Shower for me!  Bob was so proud of himself for pulling one over on me. Got to love that man! He was a very good husband — well, until he wasn’t . . . another digression . . .

His laughter that afternoon is a heartwarming memory of mine.  I think Bob had more fun delivering me to my shower than I did attending it.  Another memory that day was my cake. Not like the one pictured here but honestly just as cleaver. You see my first was due around St. Pat’s Day, I’m Irish! The commander’s wife made the cake and took liberties with the wording . . . I can say the cake was delicious, at least the piece I ate of the baby’s bottom on it was delicious!

If you are giving someone a baby shower why not be ‘cleaver’ with the cake! Trust me: memories are important, hand them out as often as you can :)

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