Smith Island Cake

I rarely get angry. I mostly get frustrated. I dissolve into tears, transforming into a crying, sobbing, weeping, inconsolable mess. When I've worked myself into that state, it's best that you not try to tease me into a better humor. Restrain your smart mouth.

Try pretty words. Try a tender kiss on the head. Though -- to be honest -- it's unlikely that either of those would have been successful when I saw that slide-age had occurred:



Smith Island Cake

p.s. Yes, of course it tastes good! That's not the point!