A certain Manhattan household was host to a bacchanalian birthday bash last night. In attendance was a little cake, lovingly baked by the hostess*. Here are the only photos that my censors permit:

Since I know you want to know what the plate looks like underneath the cake, here it is, none the worse for wear after all the hoopla:

* if by “lovingly baked” you mean “bought at Whole Foods”
P.S. The cake is called “bumblebee cake” for obvious reasons, only one of which was apparent before slicing. But imagine my jubilance when I discovered the second reason, after slicing! You’d have thought it was my birthday, what with all the buzz!
P.P.S. The bees’s wings failed to stand upright in the icing, despite the countergirl’s assurance that they would!
P.P.P.S. This year, the candle was not the kind that relights itself upon being blown out. I did not want to be predictable.