Weddings = cake. Lots of cake. Simply enormous amounts of cake, crammed into the freezer until no more will fit. And we just got the fake cake wedding cake from last weekend's reception. The entire bottom layer of that thing is in our kitchen. Maybe that doesn't sound like much, just one layer of cake, but you've got to understand this isn't just any old cake. It's a homemade Italian creme wedding cake. And it's really big.

Pondering the prodigious amount of fatty desert downstairs.

I wouldn't be having a problem if the cake didn't taste so good. Augh. There are so many calories in this house that they cannot all be contained, and have decided to attack me. I automatically gain weight whenever there is a cake monstrosity in the house.