Normally each Thanksgiving my family would either come down from Chicago or we would go up to Chicago. Since Covid started, we have not seen much of each other except during FaceTime or Zoom calls.

Each year, I would wake up, set the table, as that’s my job, and watch as the chefs cook in the kitchen. I would watch turkeys being stuffed, pecan pies put in the oven, and dressing being mixed to perfection. Just thinking about it makes my stomach growl.

Two2 years ago, I was told I had to make something or I wouldn’t get to eat.  Well, I made a homemade pound cake. I mixed all the ingredients I found in an article online and placed it in the oven to bake at 350 degrees. I was smiling and overall satisfied with myself. Once the cake was done, I let it cool and iced it with a homemade glaze. As Thanksgiving day arrived and it was time for dessert, I watched my family members cut my cake and take a bite.
Not shortly after, one by one they all spit it out.
It turns out I put too much baking soda in it and now I’m not allowed to cook for Thanksgiving. So I ask who’s cooking in your house?

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