Baking... and the "spoon"

When I was a child, my mother would always cook and bake wonderful creations in the kitchen. Now, the extent of my "lending a hand" in the kitchen would also be known as coming home from swimming/gymnastics/dancing/piano/flute/flying/tennis/golf/track (you get the picture, I was an athlete - still am) - and completely raiding the kitchen with my older brothers.

Though when it comes to cakes and any dessert with buttercream icing... nothing but pleasant memories exist.

I have two older brothers: Stephen and Michael. As a child, I would emulate their every move... sports, academic interests, video games, even clothing... just add a sparkle of glitter and call it a day. Since there were three little "Baumert cherubs," mom would always divvy up the extra buttercream icing in order for each of us to partake in the glorious sugary icing.

Enter in: bowl, paddle attachment and... spoon.

Yep. Spoon.

No one wanted the spoon, as the spoon was the natural pariah of the previously stated culinary tools. I mean, the bowl you can use your fingers to rhythmically swivel and swirl to grasp every last swipe of icing. The paddle attachment is just a party for your tongue... able to lick every nook and cranny. But the spoon? How much icing can you really get?

Really, mom?

"Please sir... may I have some more?"

I only kid of course... sorta. But in all honesty, my mother was and is a brilliant cook in the kitchen. Whenever I bake any type of cake, I remember the sweet smells permeating the home as a young child. As I said before, I never participated in the actual cooking/baking... but smells evoke nothing but jovial childhood memories.

"A great many things can be resolved with kindness, even more with laughter, but there are some things that just require cake."

Love y'all dearly!!