You're shit out of luck there - all I could find was pictures of my brother and I dressed in our best clothes, eating room service with Dad pretending to be a waiter. But in searching for said non-existent photos, I found this:
That's Mini-Me (and bonus Mini-C looking VERY serious) decorating the very first cake I ever made. I was six, and it was for my mum's birthday. We were living in Toronto, and the cake came in a rather disturbing form.
It was a packet mix cake. That's fine, I have no problem with that. If it means a small child doesn't have to break eggs and drop bits of shell into the cake, all the better. But it was one of those packet mix cakes where all you do is add water and stir. Not only that, but you ripped the front off the box, and it became A CAKE TIN. Which you then served the cake in...
You decorated it with premade icing out of a sachet. And - if you're Mini-Me - silver cachous/dragees/edible ball bearings (as the Tenth Doctor refers to them), hundreds and thousands, and candles that have been jammed into the most ridiculously tall marshmallows ever.
And that, my little blogateers, is how I fell in love with baking. A packet mix cake that you baked in the box. Now let's all be eternally grateful that my abilities have improved in the past 23 years!!