Marie Antoinette may have been misunderstood, but she had a point...

A year ago today, my waters broke. At the time I would have given anything for that to have meant the garden pond had malfunctioned and sucked all the Koi into the drainage pipes but, alas, it was merely the beginning of a truly horrific weekend. To celebrate, as all true pain should be celebrated, I am baking a cake for my sons first birthday. It will, sugar Gods allowing, be in the shape of Iggle Piggle. For those of you unfamiliar, Iggle Piggle is Upsy Daisy's bitch. Upsy Daisy is a bit of a tease, offering kisses to everyone but refusing to allow anyone into her bed. I have spoken at length to all those likely to eat it and claimed that I am attempting to make it from scratch. This is a dirty, stinking lie. At this very moment, nestled behind the Cornflakes and the Readybrek, I have two boxes of Betty Crockers Devil Cake Mix. I shall bake it, smear it with blue and red butter icing and add white chocolate buttons for eyes. I shall place the huge number '1' candle I bought today on it and present it to the oohhing and aahhing crowd with a modest nod of smug domesticity. And I shan't be sorry.