I can't remember how old she was, but probably 8 or 9. She called me at work one day and wanted to bake a pound cake. I remember thinking...SERIOUSLY???? I think I asked her to wait until I got home, not because I didn't think she wasn't capable of following directions, but I didn't want her to get burned on the stove. She was pretty little. Mom's always have a reason! Right!!??
Well, bake a pound cake she did. And when we tasted it, it was moist, and one of the best pound cakes I had ever eaten. She was so proud. I was proud of her.
A few days later, we still had several pieces left-over, so I asked if she cared if I took it to work to share with the Golden Girls. I let her know how much everyone loved her pound cake.
I don't remember her calling me at work, but when I came home for several days in a row, she surprised me with another pound cake.
I can't remember how many we ended up with, but she can really bake a pound cake!
You go Julie!
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