"I don't want to eat a baby!"
After explaining to her that the lucky person got the one baby in the King Cake, and that you didn't actually eat it, she was happier about finding it (Convenient, isn't it, that she found it? Or just good parenting.).
On this most glutenous sounding of holidays, we were able to once again participate in our own version of Mardi Gras celebrations. Last year Kristie tried her hand at a homemade King Cake, with the ingredients available here, and did a fine job!
This year, being a year older and more experienced with homemade bread, homemade cream cheese, food coloring, and a South Asian oven, James said the King Cake was better than he could get down on the Gulf Coast.
Not only did we teach Rebekah about the baby in the cake, but also about beads, kings, and "Throw me something, Mr.!" She repeated that last phrase all night, including while getting ready for her bath, when she twirled her shirt around and threw it to us. If she only knew how "authentic New Orleans" she was getting with that act.