I was nine and going to my grandmother’s for my birthday. I loved going to my grandmother’s house. It was creaky, dark and she had children’s books dating back to the 1920s. The only odd thing about her was her recipes were … unexpected, to say the least.
This particular birthday, I was dropped off to spend the weekend at my grandmother’s with my cousin, whose birthday was a few days before mine. She made a cake for both of us.
“Do you like chocolate cake, boys?” Silly question. Of course we did. She returned with a cake with strange green frosting. Something appeared to be moving on top of the frosting. My cousin and I looked at each other nervously.
“What is that brown stuff on the top of the cake?”
“Coca-Cola. I know how you kids love soda, so I poured some all over the cake.”
“May I be excused?”