Birthday cake

“Steve?” I asked him.

“Yes, Toni.”

“The instance that Mum finds out, we’re in deep trouble.”

My older brother nodded. “That’s okay.” He winked at me. “We’ll just have to make up some story.”

It was our Mother’s birthday. We had been in the kitchen, and had decided to make a cake out of some eggs we had found in the back yard. As soon as I had cracked one, a terrible stench had cleared us into the outside.

“Hey, you two,” bellowed Mum. “Come back here and clean up your mess.”

“Too late,” I informed Steve.

“Sis, why don’t we climb this tree? Mum will never find us up here.”

“Okay,” I said reluctantly, as I followed him amongst the branches.

I don’t know how long we had been up there. It seemed like ages, before the sun dipped below the horizon, and the mozzies drove us down to the ground.

Tip toeing, Steve opened the door to the back of the house. We entered the sunroom, relieved that the smell seemed to be not as strong.

Cautiously, we next entered the kitchen.

“Well it’s about time you two came inside.”

Mum had her hands on her hips, but the kitchen was clean once more.

“Next time you want to bake a cake for my birthday, please use the eggs from the fridge.”

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