“Um…hey Einstein?”

The Spawn wanted to make a cake. And by ‘make a cake’ I mean they wanted to devolve into three bloodthirsty neanderthals with jackhammers and fight over who got to do what. And by ‘jackhammers’ I mean what they treated the mixer like.

Actually, they weren’t all that bad at all I’m just sorta going off as I remember way back to when we made that cake you see up there?

And by ‘way back’ I mean this:

Me: “Cute Redhead. C’mere a second.”

CR: “What.”

Me: “Would you look at that? This cake is almost a week old.”

CR: “I know.”

Me: “A. WEEK. OLD. And look at it? There’s still most of it left. No one’s hardly eaten it!”

CR: “Mm.”

Me: “Seriously! don’t you think this says something pretty (here my chest swells) cool about how healthy we are?”

CR: “Um…hey Einstein…don’t you think it says something pretty pathetic about how I can’t eat wheat?”

*blinks

*blinks again

Me: “Oh. Yeah. I suppose that is why that cake has made it this far, isn’t it?

CR: “Mm.”