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If I cursed, I might be cursing about now. How did my daughter get to be 16? I love and cherish her….but 16, are you kidding? And what happened? We somehow forgot to save for college, which is now just around the corner. And apologies about not being able to throw that big debutante ball! (which you know I am only half kidding about. I would really, really like to go to a debutante ball starring my feminist, sometimes goth, sixteen year old).

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Still, 16 calls for cake. As many layers as you can possibly get. Throw in some flowers — they’re all edible, right?

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