...and it's a King Cake baby!

Having lived in Southeast Texas most of my life and New Orleans, too, I have to admit that each year when Mardi Gras approaches, I get excited. Not that we participitate in it anymore, but childhood memories die hard. I remember going to the New Orleans Mardi Gras parades as a child in the early 70s and sitting on my dad's shoulders as I watched the bands and floats go by. We used to go to annual parties decorated with purple, gold and elaborate food, my favorite being the king cake. I wasn't real sure at the time what the grown-ups were doing, but I was always having fun playing with the other kids.
Now I can walk into any grocery store and king cakes bombard the bakery aisles. Our extended family buys several king cakes every year, and the person that gets the 'baby' buys the next cake- this is our standard procedure around Mardi Gras time.
This year is extra special because we get to welcome a new baby boy into the family shortly after Mardi Gras. The dear sweet couple is busy nesting and preparing for their new addition to the family (believe it or not, I'm nesting, too). This is the mom's first child, and as every expectant mother does, she has her set of normal fears. But I just had to share her dream with you (thanks for her permission). I remember having strange dreams while pregnant, so this one doesn't seem too far-fetched to me. I mean- weird dreams and worries- no wonder.

Anyway, the expectant mother dreamed she gave birth to...the king cake baby! And when she tried to nurse it, the little one fell down her shirt...and she couldn't find it. Oh my! Every mother's worse nightmare, or close to it. I'm just grateful she didn't swallow the little peanut.
I only wish I could reassure her that everything will be fine, but sometimes we have to learn these things for ourselves. I LOVE YOU (you know who). I'm off to buy a king cake now.