The King Coup

Happy Fat Tuesday, everyone!

Or, as John and I call it, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT'S HOLY JUST DON'T TALK ABOUT KING CAKES.

Yep, per our new household tradition, all King cakes and other deep-fried donuts are strictly off limits.

And just to be safe, Queen cakes are getting the boot, too.

Plus drawing on cakes with magic markers.

(The walls of your bedrooms are still fine, though, kids.)

Jokers, however, are perfectly acceptable.

Ahh, Mr. Seymore Buttz, you never fail to amuse.

Fortunately, most bakeries know they can just throw a few plastic beads and carrot-less jockeys onto pretty much anything and people will buy it, thereby enabling a blissfully King-cake-free holiday.

I hear the fun part is watching beads come out of your 3-year-old.

This next one is so sad I actually had two separate wreckporters submit photos of it:

And if that doesn't capture the spirit of exuberant revelry, nothing will.

Also, John says he's pretty sure that cake is deep-fried.

And finally, did you know that Mardi Gras was actually first celebrated in Boston?

They'd swap Boston Cream King Pies and brag about who had the best foliage.

It's true! I checked Wikipedia and everything.

Thanks to Sylvia F., Kelli W., Patty S., Kati C., Bunny G., and Eleanor B. for the wicked awesome history lesson.