We knew it was coming, but the sudden dark clouds and ominous rumble still startled us to the window.
Mad was absorbing her afternoon television quota when I suggested baking the almighty Tollhouse. She surprisingly wouldn’t have any of it. Milkshakes she alerted. Strawberry milkshakes.
Did all the health food preaching finally get to her?
She pulled out the mixer and we tossed each of her cravings; soy milk, frozen mango chunks, fresh strawberries, raspberries and a blob of honey.
“This is so good I’m going to save some for when I’m a teenager.”
