Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake…Baker’s man.
Bake me a cake as fast as you can;
Burn it, and drop it, and throw it at a tree,
And that should be sufficient for little old me.

Not what you expected? Well, I can’t lie. A few days ago I tried baking cookies for the very first time. Actually, that was the first time I had ever baked anything.

I entered the grocery store, fueled by the excitement of baking chocolate chip cookies. For me, this is a rite of passage, a major milestone in my life. I am 20 years old, finally using my oven. (Some of you may think this is sad, but I am quite inept in the field of bakeries, which is why I stay away). I stroll up and down the aisle, pushing a cart and observing the packages of cookie mix as if I am some sort of professional. “Aha!” I yelped as I found the perfect pack, “One egg, a stick of butter, and this mix is all I need… easy.” If only I knew then how difficult it would actually be.

Oh, the horror. I will never bake cookies again. I much prefer store-bought. My next project is cake.
Actually, I lied.
I am cake’s next project.


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