My brother and I would wait at the window for our mom to leave. Then, as soon as she was gone, we would pull out all of her cook books and bake up a storm. Here's to all the crooked cakes my mom and dad had to eat, all the borrowed ingredients our neighbors graciously gave and to all the messes we never quite fully cleaned. The creativity always encouraged by my parents gave me
the wings to always hover just outside of the box.