Hot outta the oven.

I loathe smells. Especially smells of food. Oh how the agonize me!

Here I am, minding my own little business doing homework, and the smell drifts in....

Filling my nostrils....

Filling my soul...

Filling my head with delirious thoughts...

Calling to me...

"Missy...."

"Come...."

At this very moment, my mother is working away on making three very delicious chocolate cakes...

And I do believe she just pulled them out of the oven...

Now, she is frosting them...

Why do I know this? Because I have great smellers thats why!

No, not because I've beem wandering in there ever 3.257 minutes.

Absolutely not.

Ok, I'm back.

Wait. No. I'm not back.

But I'm here...

I did not go anywhere, thats why I'm not back.

Fine! I lied! I do wander in there every 3.257 minutes!

Kill me now, before the chocolate cake with homemade frosting hot out of the oven becomes the death of me!

Well not truly. I don't want to die.


Missy (: