All week, I've been searching for miniature moon men.
I've searched high and low. I've turned Coles and Target and KMart upside down.
I've visited specialist cake decorating stores, ransacked the aisles of $2 shops, and I even went to Toys R Us, more fool me. (I'm still recovering and I'm not ready to talk about it yet.)
It's all the more important because I'm not just doing this cake for the office. No, I'm actually doing it for the birthday of a colleague's son. It's a real birthday and it requires a real cake that looks just like the real picture in The Book.
And in The Book, the number 8 has a space theme. There are green monsters and red aliens and yellow fluffy frosting and it's meant - MEANT - to have little white astronauts on it as well.
So you can understand the pressure that I'm under. A small child might start crying if I don't get this right. I'll have let a colleague down AND made his child cry.
Omigod, the weight of expectation! Is this how parents feel when they're baking a cake for their tot's birthday? Seriously, I can feel my blood pressure rising and it's not even my child. If I can't sort out a solution soon, you will find me in the corner over there behind the desk, rocking and crooning quietly to myself.
This may be the first real stumbling block I've encountered. Tiny astronauts, where are you?
If the situation doesn't improve soon, I'm going to have to improvise. I will cut the guns off the little green soldiers I bought in a panic, and paint their little green bodies white.
My white paint better not be lead-based. That would just top things off perfectly.