Before I left, my mother, who is an amazing cook and supporter of my fathers tyrannical rule, bought me this birthday cake.
As you can see, not only were my parents tyrants, they were indeed racists. Two red plastic figures, which I can only assume are Indians, attacking this humble family trying to cross the plains.
But fret not my friends, back in those days racism was accepted. Especially when creating a cake for a young child and narrowly shaping his view of different people in the future.