Trick... Or, treat?

Recently, some of my friends had hesitated to invite me to Halloween parties and the like, assuming that because I'm a Christian, I don't "celebrate" Halloween*.

* Despite Husband claiming quite openly on Facebook that he is uber excited about Halloween, and has even posted photos of his costume, ordered to match our son's, for an enjoyable evening of door knocking, and, as he puts it: 'hyperglycaemic sociopathy'.

I'm curious about what Halloween means to you, because whatever its purported origins, it now seems more about an excuse to carve faces into pumpkins, swap ghost stories, and raid people's lolly stashes. Which, y'know, is pretty fun.

This week on Facebook, many of both my Christian and non-Christian friends have expressed their views and opinions on Halloween. They see it as either un-Christian, or un-Australian.

I just want to make it clear, that I do not find my identity in Halloween...

I find my identity in Christ.

Perhaps it is Husband's influence, as he dresses up as a comic book character this day, or, perhaps it's because we are a big part of a church plant in the suburb we live in; but each and every year, I find Halloween as a great opportunity to get to know my neighbours: To spend time with people in their environment. To chat to them in the street; to hang out with them as our respective kids collect treats; and to have a conversation with them about, perhaps, what Halloween means to them.

Husband lived in the United States when he was little and regales me with tales of Halloween from when he was a kid: the entire neighbourhood being out and about, parents taking the opportunity to be silly and, I guess, for one evening, delving back into the world of fantasy and storytelling in a way we have lost in our increasing corporatisation. I have to be honest, I rather like the sound of that. 

The Bible tells us to be a light to the world, not to hide away from the world, and wait in our cosy lounge rooms until Christ returns. Last year, I posted about some creative things I'd made for previous Halloween nights. This year, I decided to use some of the skills I have developed over the past year and make something unique, in copious quantities.

Which ended up as these:

I did attach the same tracts that I also used last year with treats handed out, since, well, I am a Christian, and sharing that is important to me. Plus, maybe it distracted me from Husband running around wielding a sword. No-one called the cops, which I put down to excellent tract-work.

It was wonderful hanging out the front of ours/other people's houses; meeting new friends and folks who had recently moved into the new housing estate we live in; watching our kids get into character and have a make-believe adventure starring a wizard, a Pokémon, a cat, and Bob the Builder.

There's also nothing like a bit of self-promotion, so I happened to also attach the same card I attached to the Top Chick biscuits, so that perhaps someone in our community might click on my blog, see this post, and read about my stance on Halloween and Christ.

And, as you've probably been itching to see, since I mentioned 'Husband' and 'costume' in the same sentence, here's some of the craziness that he and Ben got up to. Reactions varied from "are you Spiderman?" to "No, you're Flash!" and "Could it be a caterpillar?" ... No, people. It's Deadpool.

I'd like to take another moment and mention that I, myself, created those super sexy sword holsders on each of their backs... Out of knotted strips of fleece :) - feeling proud.

Out of the close-to-a-hundred photos I took, this one was probably the best. #somehowthisalwayshappens #whyamiusinghashtags:

The kids, young and a bit older, all seemed to have loads of fun dressing up, travelling around the suburb, gathering edible loot, and causing mischief. Once my family had been trick-or-treated out, we all went and got drive-thru KFC for dinner. Husband was still... in character, and still causing mischief:

Happy Halloween!

I hope you either met, or pretended to be someone new today :)

Things I've learnt about making a Minecraft cake...

You've seen it. I know you have... Or you've at least heard of it!? Please, please, please, let me not be alone in this crazy world of obsessions? Not mine, but my son's!

Minecraft: A game about breaking and placing blocks. An adventure game where brave people/players build structures to protect against nocturnal monsters, and work together to create wonderful, imaginative things... Whatever that means?

If you've heard of the game (maybe even stayed up until dawn playing it yourself?), then I'm sure you've also seen various Minecraft cakes floating around on the Internets lately... They look simple enough, right?

HA! I made one this week... And, well, at the very least, I thought that my skills had developed certainly to the stage where I could put some fondant squares onto a cake without too many dramas... Seriously!

Well... Here are the lessons I've learnt from making a Minecraft cake:

1. You will always need more squares than you think.

2. Measure, measure, measure! If you have an 8" cake, for example, make sure that it can be divisible by the size of your square cutter (give or take a 100th of a cm for example).
3. Buy a square cutter.
4. Don't be afraid to hold up your cake shop lady's time to make sure you're getting exactly the right  size square cutter that you need.
5. You will still probably need more squares.
6. If you're putting green squares onto a chocolate cake, for goodness sake, use green icing! Not chocolate icing. Just in case you didn't pay attention to lessons 2-4 and have gaps everywhere.

Allow me to pause and reflect on what happens to the person who doesn't pay attention to lessons 2-4:

It may still look like a Minecraft grass block (from way, way back), but from close up, looks like a grass block with really visible cutting lines!

7. Even if your son knows absolutely nothing about cake decorating, he may know a thing or two about Minecraft, so hear what he has to say.
8. Sometimes, you might need to use the advice your son has given you, even if he knows nothing about cake decorating.
9. Never underestimate the power of royal icing and a piping bag.
10. If you're using a plunger cutter, and know you're going to use royal icing to fill in the gaps, turn the fondant squares over so that you don't see that annoying little round punch mark.

Hindsight is a wonderful thing, isn't it? It's good to learn from others' mistakes. I chose to share my own hindsight-y wisdom with you, just in case you're about to embark on your own Minecraft cake expedition.

N.B. These same lessons may not work as well with a mermaid cake or cronuts, for example.

I paid very close attention to lesson 9, and filled in all of those 'cutting lines'. Then, once I'd "fixed it", my Minecraft addicted son said it now looked more like what it was supposed to look like... Which certainly helped me sleep that night!

I added (impulsively) "creepers" to the cake, along with birthday wishes to the boy it was made for. Part of me hesitated because "why would anyone want sad faces on a birthday cake?" but I figured that if he was as addicted to Minecraft as much as my own son, then he would know why...

And there you have it. Lessons learned, cake made, slept had, a birthday celebrated, and sanity (somewhat) restored...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JESSE!

iBrow - Now available in two horrible colours...

There comes a glorious point in motherhood where somehow, mysteriously, there are no children around you and that's not due to neglect or the intervention of the Department of Community Services, but to the local education system taking them off your hands for the mere cost of a third of your husband's wage.

Fortuitously, pre-school and big school aligned like some sort of celestial eclipse and I found myself all alone in a big shopping centre with both time and money to spare. I decided it was time to do some spontaneous Christmas shopping. It was nice. Boring, but nice.

Surely, I thought, after all this selfless future giving it was time to also get some small present for myself. Heck even an eyebrow wax, for example. It was getting a bit overdue, anyway.

And there was a special on eyebrow waxing and tinting! What a coincidence!

I went in, and lay down on the plastic covered bed. Regarding the tinting part, I told her. I told her a thousand times "Not dark.. Just a little bit more colour."

Now. I'm not sure whether it was just getting used to a new look, but when I saw myself in the mirror, my eyes opened wide, my heart pumped harder, and my breath became short and quick. I was almost hyperventilating - they were dark! Like, really dark. Dark like the blackest night, or the cloak of the headless horseman, or Husband's soul (you'll see why later). I told her I didn't want dark! She noticed (as if you couldn't, seriously) my disappointment, shock, and anxiety regarding my new look, and offered to put some make-up on me to hide some of the redness. Umm... YES!

I was thankful that I had at least left the eyebrow place until last. But what about lunch?? I'm about to see people! Oh man! I hurry to the car, where I had space to examine myself a bit closer... It was awful. I didn't know how I could fix it. As I drove to lunch, I quickly and swiftly unpinned my fringe and pulled it over my face to hide at least a little bit of the what-looked-like-thick-black eyebrows. It had to do.

Life had to go on. What happened has happened. I can't change my eyebrows. I just need to wait it out until the tint fades, and never do it again.

My children all had different reactions to this 'new look' of mine (that I was already depressed about and planning to spend the next 2 weeks indoors because of it):

3 year old: "Mum? Is that you?"

9 year old: "You look weird, Mum. Did you do something to your face?"

10 year old: "You look angry. Actually. You look like a man."

Great! I look like a weird, angry man my youngest cannot recognise.

Husband returned home and offered some kind and reassuring words to soothe and console me. He told me I was still beautiful and that finally he could actually see my expression. That was great and I started to feel better, until an hour later when he stood on the other side of the room and said "oh, I see what you meant now. It looks like two caterpillars doing a mating dance."

Then confirms that I now definitely have bitchy resting face.

... Awesome.

Here, kitty kitty kitty...

Kitty, n.

1. A fund made up of portions of money which people have contributed for a designated purpose.

2. The name of my sister's previous cat, which she adopted as a kitten.

3. This fictional character:

Naww... Hi Kitty!

This weekend, I made some Hello Kitty cupcakes. I forever* searched for how I was going to do that, and, how I was going to do that without time to locate, purchase, and/or make my own 'Hello Kitty' face cutter.

* Not really, but extensively.

I thought I'd share what I did with what I had, which was these:

Using the smaller round cutter, I made (what would soon be) the face, and then with the larger one, trimmed a bit off the top:

With the flower cutter, I could make 5 ears in one go! Hooray! Then after wrecking my brain for ways to make the ribbon without making actual ribbons (lazy, I know) I used the bottom of the balloon cutter (that I recently added to my collection just before my daughter's birthday)     ->

To create Hello Kitty's ribbon shaped accessory:

Finally, with some food colouring/paint, I added the eyes, nose, and whiskers:

I also made flowers for the remaining cupcakes, which were made the same way I made flowers for the fairy cake, with a red M 'n' M in the middle. The Hello Kitty faces and flowers were placed on top of pink buttercream icing piped onto cupcakes:

I was then somehow reminded of Phoebe from Friends, and "Smelly Cat".

Which has it's own film clip!

Good question. What are they feeding you? :)

And now the answer to the question you've probably been wondering since the beginning of this post (or at least now) - What would happen if Hello Kitty and Grumpy Cat got married and had a little kitty of their own?

Soft kitty. Hello Kitty. Little ball of fuuuur.

Sleepy kitty. Grumpy Kitty. Purr, purr, I hate you.

Burn...

My wallet won't close because I have too much money in it.

I showered for so long this morning the hot water ran out.

My feet are sore from shopping all day.

I have grey hairs at age 28.

#firstworldproblems

First world problems make light of trivial inconveniences that only privileged individuals experience. It gives us insight into the things we complain and whinge about, and in writing (can) give us a perspective change thinking about the millions around the world who will never experience them... Ever.

I enjoy a good laugh, and at times, a good kick up the bum. In Australia, we are considered some of the richest people in the world. You're certainly one of them if you have access to the internet and are reading this right now.

If you have food in your fridge,

clothes on your back,

a roof over your head and a place to sleep,

you are richer than 75% of the world.

And, you probably haven't been affected by any bush fires lately...

You know there's a bushfire nearby when Facebook is flooded with pictures of smoky, ashy, orangey, red and black skies... When you walk outside and all you can smell is 'burning'... And when your news feed shows friends 'liking' fire fighting and emergency coverage pages, and sharing their updates about evacuations, road closures, and the obvious- bush fires.

My first 'experience' of a bush fire was when I was little. My family owned a house in Lake Macquarie, and when we stayed there, we'd always visit my aunt, who lived in Gosford. She had a big house with a nice pool, and for as long as I can remember, the tiled fish on the bottom of said pool creeped me out! One year, my two older sisters stayed up the coast longer, while I came back to Sydney with my mum. There was soon report of a bush fire and my sisters had to wait where they were until it was safe to use the roads. I was so jealous! They got an extra 2 weeks to swim in my aunty's pool!

In my defence, I was little and didn't understand the horrific and tragic danger that bush fires can be. I guess I still don't. I've never had to evacuate from my home; never had to choose which items I carry out with me in a hurry; never watched everything I own be burned down to nothing.

I've never had to start from scratch to re-build my whole life.

As an adult, with children of my own, I live with fear*. Did the kids make it to school okay? Are they safe at their friend's house? Are they seriously going to wear that to the shops?

* Could also be anxiety.

But when disasters like this happen, it's often the time people start pointing the finger God, crying out "Why me?" or "Why them? They're such nice people." ... Sadly, I don't know how to answer that. Just to watch and hear what's happened in the past 24 hours in NSW is just so saddening.

One week ago, good friends of ours' daughter had skin grafting surgery on some of her fingers, as 2 weeks prior to that they were caught under a treadmill and received third degree burns... Her dad recently shared some thoughts on the matter here.

One day, it will all be over. God has promised that he will wipe away every tear. There will be no more death, or mourning, or crying, or pain. (Revelation 21:1-8)

But saying that doesn't make it burn any less now... Doesn't make people who've lost everything suddenly say "At least God still loves me". People affected by bush fires are grieving and re-building their lives from scratch... Our friends' daughter also begins to re-build everything about how she lives with one working hand. Simple things like getting dressed, writing (and typing), and tying shoelaces.

Today, I did the only thing I know how to when things are out of my control. When I have no idea what to say to those going through really tough times. When I am left speechless after hearing about  so many horrible situations...

I baked.

I'm getting old!

Do not despise your mother when she is old.

- Proverbs 23:22b

Take note, kids!

I didn't think I would live to see this day... No, that's a lie. I just didn't think this day would come so soon! As per my usual morning routine, I looked in the mirror, and once again promised myself that I will (maybe 'next week') start that daily and totally beneficial skincare routine I've been putting off for the past-however-long. I'm too young to worry about wrinkles, aren't I? Might I add that at the beginning of each year, I also say that perhaps this will be the year I learn how to do a backflip. And then the worst possible thing happened...

I'm blonde. Yes, I'm a bit dense and naïve at (numerous) times, too, I'll admit that. But, I have blonde hair, naturally. And I had spent years convincing myself that because of my light coloured hair, this wouldn't happen:

Not my hair (yet!). But it's only a matter of time...

I'm shattered. Husband claims he can't see them, but I totally can! And it's not just one. Similar to me forgetting to write down milestone dates for my children losing teeth and learning to walk, I completely missed writing down the date that my youth left me, probably because I wasn't expecting to age so quickly. It's over. I have grey hairs. And I can't do anything to stop them from multiplying. In a manner similar to Rhianna, I soon found myself scringing* "Whaaat naaaaoww?"

* Combination of screaming and singing. Because life should be a musical.

I'm not even 30 yet! <runs away and scrings into pillow>

Do I blame my kids? I would totally have Disney-worthy ridiculously luscious hair had I not been a mother. Or a worrier. Or a cake maniac. Or female. Or, you know, not-animated. Damn Disney movies with perfectly animated hair. Maybe it's my mother's fault for letting me watch too much TV growing up...

But. Life goes on. I guess I always thought that I'd remain at least youthful! And... flexible? Perhaps this is a similar experience to when you know that your own kids are getting older, but then when you see your friends' kids you haven't seen in a while, who were the same age as yours, suddenly they're all grown up! And, surprisingly, still the same age as yours. Or when you try to cartwheel after years being out of practice, and pull muscles you didn't know you had, forcing you to walk weirdly for the next 2 days...

I'm not happy about having grey hairs in my 20s. I'm not terribly sad about it, either, I guess. But I do somehow feel like my grasp on youth is getting harder and harder to hold onto! My bones are becoming fragile; my body is already less flexible; my hair: grey! And my brain so much more forgetful. Sorry, who are you again??

Help! I'm gonna break a hip if I fall!

And now to put my eBay addiction to good use (instead of more cookie cutters) and order a walking frame...

Because when I was young, Pluto was a planet!

Up, up, and away!

It's my daughter's 9th birthday today!

As per usual, my kids always take something into school to share with their friends and classmates for their birthday... Cupcakes has been the usual request, and I've always been delighted to make them (like, seriously, you have no idea how much pressure I put on them with choosing the theme in advance). But this time (I assume because she liked the Top Chick biscuits) my daughter asked me to make biscuits for her instead of cupcakes.

I suggested that because it was for her birthday (and because I had the foresight to order this particular cookie cutter from eBay a few weeks ago), I could make balloon biscuits for her... And put them onto (cake pop) sticks! Luckily, she is at an age where she is open to a persuasive argument put forth by a slightly obsessive mother as long as it's combined with bright colours and the threat of having to sleep in the garage.

I wasn't sure if baking the cake pop sticks would work, but it did! I then outlined them with melted white chocolate, and coloured them in with different colours of royal icing. Look, I even lined them up to match the original balloon photo above! It's not a problem. I can stop any time I want.

The one thing I hadn't counted on was how long white chocolate takes to set compared to how short my patience is. Husband once remarked on the dichotomy (whatever the heck that means) of this problem: I seem to have no problem spending four hours painstakingly piping a face onto a biscuit, but if I have to wait five minutes for them to set? "It's friggin' World War 23 because you you took World Wars 3-22 already waiting for the Cookie Cutter to arrive," he says, unaware that saying something like that in the kitchen is a good way to find yourself unexpectedly stabbed.

I inflated the bags so that they didn't stick to the setting white chocolate, and it was a great success. Husband pointed out I could have just put them in the fridge. Somehow, it seems one of the knives has been misplaced. It's currently located in the emergency ward.

And here they all are (finally), wrapped and ready to take to school (yes, in a shoebox), because Nike said to "Just do it!"

As I was thinking about biscuits being 'on a stick', I was reminded of one of my favourite comedians, Jeff Dunham, a ventriloquist who has a character (Jose Jalapeño) who refers to himself as being... "On a stiiick!"

She was delighted to take the balloon biscuits into school on Friday to share with her classmates, teachers, friends, friend's siblings, other random children in the playground, her brother, and her brother's friends, because she's such a lovely young girl whom I love and enjoy having as a daughter! :)

So, to our only daughter who has already spent most of her childhood...

 Trying to master this expression:

Happy 9th birthday Tamara!

Creative housework!

I've just started a new way of doing the housework. Yay! Why am I blogging about it? Because it's creative, and I'm really excited about it! Adapted, slightly, from creative exercising, I've designed myself a housework-related card game!

It's simple.
Here's what I did:

I wrote down on a few small pieces of paper a room or area in my house, e.g. Bedroom #1, Bedroom #2, Bathroom, Kitchen, Pantry, Laundry, Bookshelves, etc. You could be as specific or as broad as you like, I guess.

I shuffled and stacked these papers upside down, next to a timer (my phone) which I kept setting for 30 minutes. The aim was to spend 30 minutes tidying or cleaning that particular room/area (that was on the paper picked up, one at a time) and nothing else! You see, I'm the kind of person who tends to get distracted quite easily (you better believe it!), claiming that it's 'multi-tasking', and I'm totally being 'really productive and time efficient'.

I would spend my days at home wandering around the house, tidying bits and pieces here and there, starting one job and then leaving it due to a sudden desire to bake (for example), only to really not have much to show for all my hard efforts at the end of each day... Except un-iced cupcakes, or a half-swept floor*.

* Just kidding. I don't own a broom.

Being a stay-at-home mum means that the fact that I've now organised a housework 'game' is like totally the most exciting thing I've done all day!!

... Which is a bit sad, really.

But, if you're anything like me, and struggle to remain attentive to one given task/room to clean at a time (I believe it's a lack of something called 'self-control'), give this game a go! Experiment with it... Be creative! I found myself justifying spending more time on each room. Though, perhaps that's just continuing on the vicious cycle by not having much to show for it at the end of the day... Except a reeeaally shiny toilet.

"I hate housework. You make the beds, you do the dishes,

and six months later you have to start all over again."

- Joan Rivers

Rubbish! Total rubbish!

Early in the morning. When it's still dark, and everyone is sleeping. It happens. The moment everyone experiences. When that... thing screeches closer and closer to your house, waking you up in a hot, panicky sweat...

<gasp> "Did I remember to put the bin out??"

Yep. The garbage truck. You're a liar if you've never feared missing the arrival of the garbage truck. Countless times, Husband has sprinted out of the house (in just his undies, might I add) because his wife couldn't remember if she had deposited their week's worth of rubbish onto the kerb for collection...

Well, liars, I thought I'd share with you a rubbish cake I have just made. But not just any rubbish cake. A rubbish truck cake... A specifically and totally planned wonky rubbish truck cake*!

* That's a lie. In my plan** it wasn't wonky at all. It was perfectly trashy.

** Rule #1 of cake decorating: Always. Always have a plan.

"Number one rule out here: Always! No. Never go out in a blizzard!"

- Yeti, Monsters Inc.

Wonky. adj.
Shaky, groggy, unsteady, unreliable, crooked, wobbly, slanty, not trustworthy.

Like this donkey:

So, poor Elijah wakes up on his birthday, sees his cake, and probably asks the question "Did she mean to make it wonky, Mummy?"

The answer, obviously, is "Of course, honey! The creative cake lady was just really clever and made the truck look like it has no suspension in the whole left side, probably from cornering too hard or braking too suddenly... or, something."

"Mummy... What's suspension?"

"Something that your cake is missing on its left side, dear."

See, from some angles, it doesn't do it's wonkiness justice... It looks, well, quite normal, upright, and delicious!! With M 'n' Ms as the 'rubbish', both in the truck and in garbage bags ready to be collected, amidst yummy gummy worms working their way to/from the truck:

But then... You see a photo from the back, and well... Enough said! It's soooo wonky!! :(

I had a friend visiting us at the time I was decorating, and as I was icing the "3" on top, I actually was sad that I couldn't manage it to be perfectly centred... She brightened the mood, though, by confidently declaring that "at least it matches the rest of the cake!"

So, whenever you think of garbage trucks, forgetting to put bins out, donkeys, wonkiness, and friends who make you feel better by making light of somewhat slanty situations... Think of this:

Happy birthday Elijah!

Oh, Mickey, you're so fine!

And so, we arrive back home after a week visiting Husband's family in Jindabyne. Time away from home is always refreshing. A change of scenery is sometimes all that our family needs to escape the busyness of life.

It was a really nice week, drinking hot chocolates by the fire (because the temperature was at least 20 degrees colder than in Sydney), taking the dog for walks in the freezing cold wind, catching up with family, exploring the farm, planning a future cubby house, and relaxing.

On our way back home, we were also able to drop off our children to my side of the family in Canberra, who offered to look after them for the long weekend. It was a win-win scenario, leaving Husband and I excited about coming back home for 4 days by ourselves.

A whole long weekend, just us... Imagine the craziness! Staying in bed all day if we wanted, spontaneously going out to swanky dinners, and various other romantic experiences that are normally hard to find energy and time for...

As soon as we get home, Husband seductively says "lets get dirty in the kitchen". Excitedly, the oven gets turned on and I begin mixing butter, sugar, flour, and chocolate to bake a cake, thus dirtying various bench-tops, utensils, and appliances...

Apparently, that's not what he meant.

Who says women can't multi-task?? I made a cake, messed up the kitchen, and disappointed Husband all at the same time.

This photo was inspiration for the cake.

And here's how I made it:

I started with a plan! I work better when I have a plan to refer to, as sometimes (just sometimes!) when I do things spontaneously, they don't really work out (crazy, I know)...

This is the bottom tier, as per the plan - red fondant all over, with a yellow strip down the bottom (for Mickey's shoes, I believe).

The cake for Mickey's head was baked in a glass mixing bowl, as I didn't have anything else quite as round. For his face, I traced an outline from the computer, and used that to make sure his features were symmetrical (my friend-turned-cake-assistant, who was with us at the time for dinner, suggested this).

Mickey's head was covered in black fondant, his face was attached, his ears were cut out and stabbed with wire, awaiting the moment they were set.

As I went through my mental list of things that definitely had to be done the evening before, or things that could be done in the morning, the stars for the birthday boy's name needed to be made, which were yellow stars, also poked with wire:

Mickey's face looked a lot more like his face once I outlined it with fudge frosting!! I wasn't real keen about the frosting eyes, though...

Using Disney font generator (the same that I used for my daughter's Disney themed 8th birthday party last year), I traced the birthday wishes, which I copied onto the cake board with royal icing:

Mickey's head was attached to his body, and so far I had this!

... It was about this time that I decided that I really was unhappy with what Mickey's eyes looked like with the fudge frosting. So, I carefully scraped it off and replaced them with brown M 'n' Ms. Oh, Mickey, you're so fine :)

Then, I wrote the birthday boy's name onto the stars...

Lined up and poked Mickey's ears into his little cake head...

Poked Xavier's name in stars into the cake - aiming to get the wires behind Mickey's ears...

Added Mickey's buttons onto the front of the cake... And, it was finished!

Happy 1st birthday Xavier!!

Now Husband and I could enjoy being young again, with the rest of the weekend to do things that couples-who-don't-have-children get to do!

... Right after one more cake I needed to make.

It was like some kind of supernatural force. I was once again led not to the bedroom, where Husband patiently waits for me, probably naked... But back to the kitchen, turning on my overworked oven, to once again mess up the kitchen, all in the name of creativity!

Husband's input (apart from him talking to me in a Mickey Mouse voice aaaaaall day) to making the Mickey Mouse cake is this:

And lastly, some fun facts about Mickey Mouse:

- He is the beloved, animated cartoon character and mascot of Walt Disney.
- He was created in the studios in 1928 and is by far the most recognisable characters in the world, with his big round ears, red shorts, yellow shoes, and white gloves.

- His official debut was in the short film, Steamboat Willie.
- He has continued to appear in over 130 films... That's more than Arnie!
- His on-screen girlfriend, but off-screen WIFE, Minnie, adores him. Married, but dating?? Relationship status: COMPLICATED!