We were the cake conspirators,
Beginning with an empty moment,
When we asked Ben to fetch Emile...
And waited at the table,
For the cake to meet his face.
And I thought, wouldn't it be funny...
Wouldn't it be just freaking hilarious,
If I were to pretend to slam it in yours instead?
...But, as soon as I got near you...
You went up in arms!
Your small hands grabbed as much cake as they could,
And my hair suddenly became a sticky shade of white!
We had no time for disbelief,
We had no time for anything,
But to fight!
Now was the batter battle...
And I had to throw the second punch.
Laughing, while reaching for more.
Squealing, then wiping it from our eyes.
Answering the cries of the cafeteria to,
"Yeah, get her in the face!"
Emile came in for a picture afterward (to remember us in all our cakey glory, I suppose) and we wiped our hands clean on his shirt....
And maybe a little on his face.