Let the Kids Eat Cake!

I only have six months to pick out my son’s birthday cake. Last year, at his 2nd birthday party, a few of the kids enjoyed the Elmo-themed sheet cake I special-ordered for the occasion. But I quickly learned from their mothers that many others are vegan, allergic, or gastrointestinally intolerant, and that a good old-fashioned birthday cake made with flour, butter, and white sugar is a source of shame. So this year I have to plan ahead.

I want to get my son Sean a Thomas the Tank Engine cake, but I am no longer naïve enough to think that this will not offend many of the parents—even if it is certified lead-free. First on the invite list is Sebastian. Last year, I found his father (who I actually like) near tears as he swabbed purloined frosting from his son’s mouth, as if it contained asbestos. When I ran over to see what the problem was, he looked up apologetically and explained, “Sebastian has never had white sugar, animal products, or processed food, and I don’t want him to get sick.” Then he slipped his son a carrot and left.

Next on the guest list is Sean’s best friend Ruby, who suffers from celiac disease and therefore can’t ingest anything made with wheat, which pretty much eliminates everything in the “cake” food group. Ruby’s mom has banished all flour from their home and can always be counted on to liven up a block party by spontaneously quoting from “The Gluten-Free Cookbook.” And then there’s Luis who only eats organic, so he’ll skip the cake unless I can find frosting the color of Thomas the Tank Engine made from shade-grown berries and tree bark.  By the time I get to Irene, the little lactose intolerant trollop next door, I’ll be lying on the couch with a wet washcloth on my forehead, clutching a bottle of sulphite-free, certified free-trade Pinot Noir.

The secret truth behind this epidemic of dietary maladies is that most of these kids—including Ruby—have not been diagnosed by anyone who actually attended medical school. I suspect that the source of their food illnesses and allergies can be traced to misguided advice from crano-sacral therapists and other “healers”, or back to their carrot-hoarding parents’ heads. Studies support my hunch that true dietary risks are vastly overeported. For example, 1 out of 3 Americans claims to have a food allergy, but government and medical association estimates put the actual incident rate at only between 1 in 70.

I understand why parents want to protect their kids from too much sugar, chemicals, or anything that could give them a rash. But I can’t help feeling sad about the little boy who stands in the corner munching on a carrot while the others lap up their layer cake. My heart breaks to think that my son’s pals will leapfrog into adulthood never knowing the childish pleasure of real birthday cake, made with real eggs, real butter, real sugar—or, heck, frosting made from suet, preservatives, and artificial coloring. It’s only once a year! Of course, being kids, they will get their share of off-limits foods—parents aren’t nearly as good at policing as they think.

When I shared my party-planning panic with a clean-living, vegetarian friend, she pointed out that there are plenty of options for kids with special dietary needs. For example, Babycakes NYC, makes organic, refined sugar-free, gluten-free, wheat-free, vegan baked goods for “delicate tummies.”  The photos look optimistically edible, but the “What if I’m allergic to…” page leaves my stomach in knots, warning that “Each sugar conscious customer should consult her physician to determine whether she should enjoy our baked goods,” and reminding me that I can order an agave-sweetened cupcake free of all irritants and still find my kid in a sugar-frenzy after one bite.

With only 160 days until Sean’s birthday party, the pressure is on. But my cake order is going in. For some things, like Thomas the Tank Engine birthday cake, there is no substitute.

Next: Organic Day Care Providers Caught Buying Hot Dogs in Bulk at Costco!