My daughter-in-law knocked on the door.  Upon opening it she smiled, tired from a long day of teaching teens and in-betweens.  Math and science it seems.  Walking across the wooden floor, ran a robust toddler of one to greet her with open arms.  “Mama, Mama…”  Blond and blue-eyed, his face was aglow to see his mother bending down on one knee, ready to hug him-so-tight.  This single grandson of mine wrapped soft pudgy arms around his mother’s neck squeezing her with all of his little might.  She fell back on her behind to laugh aloud.  Tired no more, life was all about the moment…

With the rest of the family off to a Michigan game for the weekend, the three of us skipped off to a nearby café to enjoy the treat of a special dinner.  Our chosen restaurant was a small, family owned place where menus were written overhead on chalkboards of black.  Beverages were self-serve near a wall towards the right, while wooden booths waited for us to sit and chat on the left.

Although the food in this café is truly delicious, all homemade and one of a kind, the chef is mainly known for his French pastries and desserts.  People from all over St. Louis come to enjoy a slice of mile high raspberry cake filled with buttercream frosting or delight in their signature chocolate desert covered in milk chocolate ganache.  At holiday time, rows and rows of cakes and pies line the entire restaurant with orders sold in advance.  Call early if you want to serve anything filled with cream or baked in crust at your dinner table!

Of course the above, in all its magnificent glory sits behind massive cases of glass lit from behind, tempting anyone who comes to dine.  It’s impossible to say, “No.”  I’ve tried looking another way or ignoring the display.  I’ve even pretended it wasn’t there in order to “come back another day.”  Ha, it doesn’t work that way!

Still, my daughter-in-law and I were doing fairly well in masking our watering mouths.  We sat in our booth, discussing children’s play while waiting for sandwiches to be delivered.  ‘Our’ little man was buckled into a seat, his back to the tempting treats.

Minutes went by…then out of nowhere came a clear voice, as if from a speaker.  “Cupcake.”  It was clear and concise.   Anyone could have said it.  Yet, lips of a toddler were moving up and down.  “Cupcake.”  My daughter-in-law laughed.  Me too!  Then, Little Guy began to giggle.  “Cupcake!”  Our dinner hadn’t been delivered yet, so what the heck?  With permission of course, my grandson was allowed to devour desert as his first course.  Oh, and on the way out, another one to take home!


40 thoughts on “Cupcake

  1. Those pics of your grandson are really sublime, Kim, and likewise your narration of atmospherics in the cafe with all goodies invitingly arrayed. The foodie that you are, I should like you to send me a few of your favourite cake recipes, so I can pass on to my wife to make it for me. Over to you…best wishes.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you, Raj. To think a year from now your own ‘little guy’ will be this big! I’d love to send you a good cake recipe, but none fall into this category. Your wife could probably teach me a thing or two when it comes to batter and ovens. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

    • Elle, my heart was a cupcake smashed on a plate in that moment of life. He could have picked out a whole cake if he had wanted to! Thank you for being here to read my words and comment, Elle. Much appreciated.

      Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you, Pete. Yes, she is a blessing, isn’t she? The best wife and mother! I’m so lucky to have her in my life, and she gives me beautiful grand-babies! Have a terrific weekend, Pete. 🙂


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