The Cake Mixer Mishap

I should’ve listened to Mom

- THERESE MARSZALEK

Tom and I had been planning a road trip to visit family in Idaho for weeks. So why did I feel as if we should postpone? We’d already put off the trip once. We had a new car with good tires. What could go wrong? I ignored the feeling, and we started off for Idaho, some 1,400 miles away.

Two days later, we were stranded in a diner in Montana. It was only snowing lightly, but our new car had broken down. Now we were waiting for the tow truck. As Tom took our Yorkie outside for a walk, I found myself thinking about a day years before.

I was 13 back then, standing at the kitchen counter, my long hair hanging almost to my waist. I’d been craving a triple-layer chocolate layer cake all week. Now that it was Saturday, I was determined to make it. I laid out everything I would need. Measuring cups, spoons, bowls. Ingredients including butter, eggs and baking chocolate. And the electric mixer that would combine them into a smooth batter.