A Taste of Memory

A Taste of Memory

Mom gave me the spatula, a

present from Christmas yesterday 

now the remains of chocolate

icing clung to the rubber.

Dad said its sweetness fattens

but the taste never lets me down.

My tongue accepts the gritty

paste, a very worthwhile treat.

Being the fastest in grade one and

so impatient I was. Wanting

to lunge forward when mom wasn’t

looking. Dipping a finger in the

mixture, something I usually did

quite successfully when my

sister prepared her own recipe.

Right now not daring to

do it ‘cause mom just made

the best cake with the greatest

icing and punishment would

have been terrible -- “No cake for

you today young man.” Good

thing I’m pretty smart for

a six-year-old kid.

© 2016 Richard L. Provencher

Summary: As personal age rises, writing can be nostalgic, remembering days of younger times, and the fun in simpler things, like the choice of dipping a finger into the batter or wait for the finshed treat.