In my fridge, was a piece of cake, like Grandma, used to make.

Its wrong to eat it for breakfast. But, I am mom and my grandma is long gone. It was like a taste from the cake covered in layers and layers of foil. Crispy chocolate cake, not fresh out of the oven and layers of buttercream frosting. Like a hug from Grandma Monica, I gobbled it up and it was gone. Love tastes delicious. Stale cheese doodles, freezer burned hotdogs and week old cake is love delicious. I could never have described it until I saw it in my "fridgidaire". Missing home makes you eat a strange breakfast of chocolate cake and coffee. NO! I would have eaten it anyway. I don't know who's cake it was. I am in trouble for taking it...again! :+