The funny thing about kid birthdays is that even though I had a great time colouring icing and trying to figure out how to get the tomato sauce the right colour (adding cocoa did a nice job of intensifying the red), the cake that kid J liked the best was probably the Dora one I bought and took to her daycare - the one made from crap ice-cream. This is fine really, because as I was obsessing about the colour and shape of the fondant mushrooms, my husband aptly commented that kid J wouldn't notice. This is true I recognized but I also recognized and said, "yeah, but that has nothing to do with her."
How terrible is that? When it gets right down to it, if the cake was for her, I would have bought one. As it turns out, I thoroughly enjoyed the process of making the thing - trying to figure out how to make fondant salami, but the fact that I received accolades made it all the more sweeter. Ah the ego.
I could try and be more profound here but I just want to break the publishing drought.