when baking
a cake
with your son
it was all
about who got
to lick
the spatula
and then
the big flat
knife
that smoothed
the icing.
the cake itself
was secondary.
taking an
eternity
to cook,
then cool.
you can
still see his
round face, nose
and lips,
covered
in chocolate.
his eyes lit
up, happy as a
monkey in a
banana tree.
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