There are the two that got a bit burnt in the oven.
The one you have to try to see if they are done.
The three with tea when Mum comes around, awww, perhaps just one more.
There’s the one that wouldn’t fit in the biscuit jar,
the one that you sneak when you get home from work and can’t think of what to make for dinner.
There are three that go to work in a lunch box
four that are missing when you get home to find crumbs on the counter.
There are the two that were used as a little extra to make a bowl of vanilla ice cream special.
Two are dunked in hot espresso with Dad at the dining table.
Three eaten when Cate drops around unexpectedly - served on a china plate with a tiny rose buds pattern.
And then there is one.
The one that rolls around the jar with the crumbs for a week - the one that no one dares to eat.
And then it’s gone.