A Reflection Upon The Frog Cake; Or, Not To Worry, The Kid In Me Is All Right

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​A REFLECTION UPON THE FROG CAKE; OR, NOT TO WORRY, THE KID IN ME IS ALL RIGHT

      In my previous post I wrote about the yearning of my ten-year-old self to eat one of the green, cream-filled frog cakes my mother brought home from Haegele's, the neighborhood bakery, for the family on St. Patrick's Day (https://www.ailantha.com/blog/the-saint-patricks-day-frogs-revisited).
      The reason I didn't - couldn't - eat  my frog cake was because, through inauspicious fortune, St. Patrick's Day fell in the middle of Lent and I had given up sweets for Lent. And so  I couldn't possibly put one bite of that tempting little confectionary amphibian into my mouth for fear of displeasing God, before whom I would have stood terribly ashamed of myself for having given in to temptation.
     Back then I hadn't yet reached the juncture where I began questioning why, considering the infinite catalogue of good and evil actions we human beings are capable of, it would matter to God one way or the other what we did or didn't put into our mouths on which days of the week or year. Back then it seemed perfectly logical that what would really make the creator of all space, time, the universe and everything in it happy would be for me not to eat that frog. So I didn't.
       Of course my personal theology nowadays has quite evolved from the catechism that molded my beliefs and those of a good number of my contemporaries back then,       

....and these days the tale of my uneaten St. Paddy's day frog is just a droll little childhood story, the likes of which everyone accumulates a pocketful of along the way. 
       Still, this story, though meant to bring a chuckle, made some readers sad. Maybe world events being what they are, all our hearts are feeling more easily saddened and sensitive these days, And though I suppose the writer in me sometimes lays the hyperbole on as thick as the icing on my famous rosette mini-cupcakes, ​

...or my chocolate cream-filled mini-cupcakes,

...the truth is, the kid in me truly doesn't feel even the least twinge over the memory of that uneaten frog. My inner child is perfectly fine over the treat foregone all those years ago.
     Perhaps this is because over the years that memory has been piled on by the mountains of memorable sweets that I've eaten since then, not to mention the sweets yet to be eaten, Lord willing.
        To those friends and relatives who offered recipes and suggestions on how I might recreate a St. Paddy's Day cream frog in my kitchen - thank you! And if it's not in the cards for me to make the pilgrimage back to Haegele's Bakery in some mid-March, I think that one of these times I may well give a home-made frog a whirl.