Got de baby!

My friend Francisca says that in Guinea, when women are pregnant they say "I got de baby."

It's a tradition in Louisiana to have King Cake, a bready, glazed cake, often filled with cream cheese or praline (or both, my favorite). Inside the cake you put a little plastic baby, and whoever gets the piece of cake with the baby in it has to throw the next party.

So we threw our annual Mardi Gras party on Tuesday and had friends over for jambalaya, king cake, and plenty of tasty blended drinks. When it was time to make the King Cake, we realized we had no baby bead. In stepped our friend Christine, whose parents used to live in New Orleans, and who had, unexpectedly, a stock of Mardi Gras paraphenalia at her house. She shoved the baby somewhere in the cake, then poked lots of holes so we wouldn't know which piece had it.

At the end of the night, we brought out the cake, explained the tradition, and my friend Leslie took over cake-cutting responsibility. I thought the cake was a little light on the filling, so I directed Leslie to give me a slice from the more filled side. She refused. I told her it was my house, and my cake, and I'll have whichever slice I like! And she yelled "No! You just want that piece because you know it has the baby!!"

"Ummm. OK. Well, NOW I know it has the baby." ("You doofus", I wanted to add). Christine actually had to step in and tell Leslie I didn't put the baby in the cake. Seriously, I thought Leslie might just hit me for a second there!

So, turns out not only do I "got de baby," I also got the baby. And now have to throw the next Mardi Gras party. Which I was going to do anyway.