Mom and I bake a cake this weekend in honor of two birthdays.
Popo With Tractors.
And Grandma With Dogs.
I pour the mix in the bowl. And then I pour water.
Mom beats the cake mix. While I cover my ears.
I lick the spoon. And Mom puts the cake in the oven.
We watch it rise. And rise. And rise.
Finally it is done.
Dad and I can’t wait for it to cool down. We grab a chunk of cake. And cram it in our mouths.
Yum. Angel food.
I am so happy. I want to sing.
There should be two birthdays every weekend.
