One of my UU kidlets joined the church last week. Tonight, she, like many other adults in my church, is hosting a table at the fellowship dinner. I'm at her table and she asked me to bring a cake.
I decided to decorate it with the words "Katie joined the church! We're so proud!" or some such.
When I was a kid, my mom made us birthday cakes with all these goofy flowers made of icing on them. I decided Katie might deserve a goofy flower cake.
So I called up my mother.
"Hey Mom, I am taking a cake to a potluck and I want to do one of those cakes with the flowers you do. If I bake the cake and do the icing in the background, will you help me do the flowers?"
My mom suggested I come over and just bake the cake at her house. She's not usually one for a bunch of quality time, so I cheerfully accepted.
I went ingrediants shopping with a light heart, thinking cheerily that it was impossible to say the words "My momma and me are gunna make a cake!" without smiling.
I got to her house just as she was getting back from the store. As we walked into the house, my brother Oliver came running up "Hey Mom!" he said. "Jason (my other brother) is stranded in Pennsylvania and is out of money. I told him to steal enough gas to get home!"
I mixed the cake batter as my mom talked on the phone to Jason and then Western Union.
Do moms know how much their kids long for them? I don't thinks so.... (goes for dads too, of course.)
I made a cake with my mom over the holidays. It was so nice to cook together. I did feel like a little kid again.
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