pump your brakes

is it

done yet. i yell into the kitchen.

no,

she yells back.

be patient.

another twenty minutes

or so.

what's taking

so long?

i'm starving.

she peeks her head into

the room,

and waves a spatula at me.

it won't bake any faster

if you

keep yelling

at me

and bothering me.

and when

it's done i have to let

it cool

before i ice it.

so pump your brakes.

it's coming. quit whining.

the cake will

be done soon.