My birthday cake looked like a burrito.

My familia kept asking me what kind of B-day cake I wanted. 
I didn't want anyone to care about my birthday so I just told them to make me a burrito and call it good. So my clown family took me literally. 
Even after they had finished the cake they asked a last time "what kind of cake do you want?" I say "burrito." They just nod and somehow avoided cracking up in my face. 
Glad I didn't ask for a joint instead. It would have been a very special cake but not as sharable.
 It wouldn't go over very well as a kind of cake to share with our local, black-footed, sharpie faced 'partments children. 
That's who ate most of the burrito cake. We all had dinner together in the parking lot