Mmm, gotta love that flat, kinda a little sweet mushy cracker cake. Tastes like disappointment.
My mom made a sport of ruining my birthdays. Sometimes it was something like interrupting the party to tell me my teacher had called and I was in trouble, but usually it was my mom’s ego making her think that kids were down with whatever whole wheat bullshit she had found at the natural food store. The rye flour crust pizza she forced on me and my dwindling pool of friends who would come to my house the year after the cinnamon pie was the final nail in my birthday party coffin. Decades later I still hate my birthday.
Mmm, gotta love that flat, kinda a little sweet mushy cracker cake. Tastes like disappointment.
My mom made a sport of ruining my birthdays. Sometimes it was something like interrupting the party to tell me my teacher had called and I was in trouble, but usually it was my mom’s ego making her think that kids were down with whatever whole wheat bullshit she had found at the natural food store. The rye flour crust pizza she forced on me and my dwindling pool of friends who would come to my house the year after the cinnamon pie was the final nail in my birthday party coffin. Decades later I still hate my birthday.