My mother showed up at my wedding with a cake and I still remember it.
She had a neighbour that made cake flower decorations she said, and offered to get her to make me one.
An unknown neighbours cake with a random flower decoration was of no interest, the opposite in fact and so I said no thanks, I don't want a cake or icing flowers.
So she arrived with a cake with a sort of lacy icing hat on it, in a triumph of ignoring my wishes for my own good and made a big palavar about dragging us over to cut the dumb cake.
We cut stood at a cake with a knife for a photo of two people standing by a cake? What is that all about? I have no idea, I've never read a wedding instructions manual and so the mystery of the standing by an ugly cake remains the mystery I was happy for it to be.
Apparently the cake got shoved on my drunk dad's knees in the taxi on the way home and he let it fall in the street when he got out of the car.
She kept the strange battered icing hat thing though as a while after I visited them and she tells me, I saved your icing off your cake, do you want it? This crumbling icing thing in a plastic box.
My cake? That's yours mum, you keep it. She didn't want it she said. Well I didn't want it either but that seems to have made no difference, so I suggested she bin it.
I do think of her and her cake and the strange compulsion to do an unwanted thing. She had a cake at my wedding, but I didn't.
When you have a mother that takes no notice of what you are saying you actually stop caring about anything they have to say too. It's a mutual thing.