He liked his pineapples, melons, oranges, all kinds of healthy fruits and vegetables too, but when I arrived that afternoon with a two layer nutmeg, cinnamon, allspice, infused, old fashioned layer cake with cream cheese frosting, whipped up fluffy and light. He was especially possesive. I knew he liked Spice cakes but I had no idea I’d never get to taste it. He wouldn’t share with a soul. My soul loved it. It was worth not giving to the friend it was originally supposed to go to. I’m ashamed to admit I didn’t specifically make it for him, but I didn’t specifically make it for the friend either. It was a toss up and I don’t regret for one minute that I gave it to the stingy man called my dad.
Another day in the life of Bustersdaughter.
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