I wouldn’t call myself Betty Crocker, but I’d like to think I can get by. So, here I was baking a cake for my friend’s surprise birthday party. The oven was pre-heated, and the kitchen was covered with all the ingredients needed to make this cake a masterpiece, (let’s just say I’m not the most organized cook).
I slipped the cake into the oven with a sense of accomplishment, set the timer, and waited with anticipation to see the end result. Twenty minutes passed, thirty, thirty-five, and every time I peered into the little oven window, my cake was still flat and sad looking.
I thought, “it must just need more time, and then it will rise to perfection.” Well, that didn’t happen. After forty-five minutes in the oven I pulled out my deflated cake, which basically represented my deflated hopes and dreams, and sat down dumbfounded at what I possibly could have done wrong.