#fluffflufffluff

Summary: Future Fluff

It was the ugliest thing she had ever seen.

The worst thing was - she was the one who made it. Jane knew that she wasn’t a cook, but she thought if she followed the recipe perfectly it would look like what it did in the picture. But, it resembled nothing like the picture. The middle of the cake was sunken in, and it leaned so far to the side she thought it might tip over. She tried adding the icing onto it. However, the oddly colored purple icing dripped down the sides of the cake and puddled onto white china plate it was placed on. 

If the cake wasn’t bad enough. The kitchen was a disaster. Flour covered almost every inch of the counter, and the sink was full of dirty dishes. Several broken eggs sat on the floor along with her first icing attempt and her sanity. 

She stood in the middle of the counter drenched in sweat, flour, and powdered sugar. “How did something so horrible take me all day to make?” She thought to herself as she pulled out a piece of eggshell from her hair. Jane started to add the raspberries she bought on top of the cake as she contemplated on how she was going to clean this mess up before Kurt got home. The raspberries fell into the sunken middle of the cake as she looked up at the clock. She cursed out loud as she saw the time. She was doomed.

She feverishly grabbed the dirty rag on the side of the kitchen stove to try to wipe up the puddle of milk on the edge of the counter. The rag had only made contact to the milk spill as she heard the jingle of the keys opening the door. 

Jane froze in place, as her head fell in embarrassment. She heard Kurt’s footprints get louder as he made it to the kitchen. She closed her eyes as he entered the room.

Kurt looked at the kitchen and his flour stained wife and burst out laughing. Kurt held the corner of the counter to keep him stable as his bellowing laughter filled the room.

“It’s not funny, Kurt,” Jane muttered as she lifted her head to look her husband in the eye. 

“It kind of is, Jane. I also think you missed a spot.” Kurt beamed as he dipped his middle finger into the flour on the kitchen counter and smeared it on the tip of Jane’s nose.

“Stop it, Kurt,” Jane spat as she tried desperately to hide the smile that crept to the corners of her mouth.

“What did you make?” Kurt asked as he pointed to Jane’s lopsided cake.

Jane explained, “It’s supposed to be a raspberry vanilla cake. I called Sarah, she said it was your favorite. It’s the same one -”

“That my grandma used to make,” Kurt interjected as he gazed lovingly at Jane. Kurt softly smiled as he realized what his wife had done for him.

“Yes. But, your grandma must be rolling around in her grave because I just murdered your birthday cake.” Jane frowned as her disappointment engulfed her.