Apparently I just don’t get it. I’m sure that doesn’t surprise anyone. Marcy asked me what I was doing for my birthday. I said nothing. She said “well, at least your husband will get you a cake.”
“No, I make my own cake.”
Shocked she blurted out, “No, only sad cat ladies make their own cakes.”
“Exchange the cat for children.” I retorted.
She baked me a cake. It’s gone now . . . and I miss it.
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2 comments:
I wish someone would bake me a cake.
I'll bake you a cake but I use a mix and Marcy bakes from scratch.
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