CAKE

Squirrel went out for a sleepover the other night. I'm told, when breakfast was kindly delivered to the table, her face fell at the sight of healthy oats. She then loudly announced, with an undertone of threat, 'We have cake. CAKE.'

I blame myself.

I have narrated the story of my primary school confusion. The teacher asks, What do we have for breakfast? To which the obliging class answered toast! cornflakes! porridge! And I shout CAKE.

I do not know whether it was wishful thinking, or whether I had been allowed cake that morning, so it became from that point my total goal, desire and object that every proper breakfast should involve cake.

Naturally, I have introduced this pleasure to the gritlets. And here they are, making CAKE. Some of which we will indeed save for breakfast.