Last night the cub scouts held their annual Feller Cake Bake and Auction. For this event, cub scouts and their fellers, be they fathers, grandfathers, uncles, cousins, family friends or whatnot, bake and decorate a cake, bringing it to a meeting where they are auctioned to the highest bidders. The entire process is rather comical.
The cakes take on all sorts of appearances. There are homages to film:
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| From February 2009 |
(Yes, there is nothing "under" that X-wing. It is an x-wing, right? The supports are holding it up.)
There are homages to the military:
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| From February 2009 |
(Note that some of the army men were mutilated. This cub scout's mom was adamant that we warn the Pack that the winners would need to eat carefully to avoid small bits of army man plastic.)
There are the items that look unbelievably tasty:
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| From February 2009 |
(I ALMOST won this one and another leader decided at the last minute to outbid me. Nice. Oh well, that's ok, I got a copy of the recipe.)
There are two rules of thumb: Toys and grotesque looking cakes sell. (A combination can sell for even more!):
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| From February 2009 |
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| From February 2009 |
(This was the cake my 4-year-old bid on.)
This year, my fellers paid tribute to literature:
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| From February 2009 |
(The quidditch hoops were fashioned out of lollipop sticks before being covered with colored frosting.)
The event can take awhile. This year we had about thirty items to sell. The last item of the night was a large plate of sticky buns. The smaller plate by the same father-son team had sold earlier in the evening. Having lost on my bid for a Mrs. Fields Chocolate-Toffee Cake, I decided to bid on the sticky buns.
Another parent leader in the pack had his eye on that plate of sticky buns, too. His mother had purchased the smaller plate earlier and he had announced at that time that he was saving his bid for the larger plate.
At this point, I must make a disclaimer: I am not a very nice person as anyone who knows me well in real life has experienced to be true. I can be a very snarky and judgemental. But on this blog, I try to take care not to vent my truly wicked nature. Anything I say here, I would have to be willing to say in person to the person about whom I'm speaking. Yes, I would confront the dude wearing culottes at the Grand Canyon and tell him just how silly he looked. So you will need to believe me when I say I have nothing at all against this fellow leader. He is a fine man.
That said, I should have known that he would be willing to bid high. This gentleman is a very strong supporter of the Scouting program. Indeed, he grew up in our community, earned his Eagle Scout award at the Troop affiliated with the same sponsor organization as our cub scout pack, and has never left as a leader since the day he turned 18. He has achieved just about every Scouting award there is to earn. He holds several positions in the Scouting organization. And on top of all of this, he is a very successful businessman in our community. In fact, I believe it was his grandfather who founded the large company of which he is currently the President, a company which bears his family name.
In other words: I was bidding against a guy with deep pockets who has no qualms about spending money at a fundraising auction for Scouts.
But those sticky buns did look good so I had to give it a fair shot. You never know. His family had already won at least two other auctions that night. Maybe his mom might share her plate of sticky buns with her son?
And so the bidding began.
The only thing better known than my snarky tendencies are my frugal tendencies. But I had set my limit at $30 and began to bid. The businessman's family was in the back of the room and when I bid $20, he looked at them and nodded and they bid $22. Before long we were at $25, $26 and soon, $30. My limit exhausted, I assumed this was the end of the line.
And then it happened...
Businessman Jr had been sitting a few feet away from me and he stood up, "got into my face" and said to me: My father is going to take you DOWN.
Did Young Master Businessman just issue a challenge to me? Or was he going to gloat in victory? Oh, no, no, no. We can't have that. Can we?
At that point my less than friendly side stirred up. If he was going to boast, it would cost his father more than $30, that's for sure.
I looked at my husband, the auctioneer for the item, and said "Thirty-one."
DaddyDoc's eyes got big. Not that $31 would break our family budget and if I had wanted the sticky buns that badly, he would have no problem with my winning them, but this was so unlike me. And his wallet was already empty and he knew mine was, too. I know where the treasurer lives. I could take a check to her in the morning if I needed to.
Mr. Businessman looked to the back of the room but his wife was shaking her head. She was finished with the bids. But Mr. Businessman was not. Like his son said, he was going to take me down. And so he looked at his son who announced "THIRTY-TWO!"
Doc turned to me and I nodded my head. Into the microphone he announced "We have 33!"
Have I mentioned lately that besides being snarky and frugal, I am not really a big gambler? Well, I'm not. What if Mr. Businessman decided to call my bluff and let me win the sticky buns?
Mr. Businessman nodded at his son who called out 34 and I followed quickly with 35.
At $36, I decided that the $5 "In PerkyMommy's Face Penalty" had run its course. I let the Businessman Family win the plate of sticky buns.
In the aftermath, I told Mrs. Businessman about her son's challenged and apologized for running up the price of the buns. She laughed and said her husband had it coming for not reigning in his son's mouth.
And the cub scouts took in almost $600. Not bad for an evening's work.
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