Coffee Cake Queen
Eating something when it first comes out of the
oven is an extraordinary experience. The steam rises, omitting a delightful
aroma threw the air that will make any mouth water. The gooey pools of cinnamon
and the crunchy brown sugar that would sit atop a moist, firm cake would always
be my favorite part. Sliding a knife through the warm cake in order to retrieve
a piece from the center; which is the most delectable part, is a much
anticipated moment. Placing a piece in my mouth and feeling it’s soft yet
crunchy texture as well as its sweet and powerful flavors creates a wonderful
feeling of love and joy. Especially having it with tall glass of ice cold milk
makes the cake that much more enjoyable.
As far back as I can remember my mom had always
made coffee cake. I would wake up to my mom sneaking quietly and gently, trying
to wake me to tell me there is no school that day. Right then I knew that later
she would be making her famous coffee cake. As a child I remember waking up to
the smell of the sweet treat. Knowing that there was no school that day this
would automatically create a feeling of over-joy that I could play outside in
the snow all day. My mom would make batches and batches of coffee cakes when I had
snow days. The best part was waking up for the second time a little later when
the coffee cake made the whole house smell of sweet sugar and cinnamon. I loved helping my mom make the cake, we
always had so much fn. Our motto was make a mess now, eat coffee cake, clean
later. I would call her the coffee cake queen and sometimes we would play
around and we wore dress up crowns. I would be her coffee cake princess.
My mom’s coffee cake was so good I remember running
downstairs in my pajamas, almost missing every stair to grab a piece of coffee
cake. I always had to have a piece from the center since that is where all the
cinnamon and sugar were in puddles. The coffee cake next to the edge of the pan
was too crunchy for me so I always left those pieces for my dad, he’d eat
anything. I would put my center piece of coffee cake on a small plate, pour
myself a glass of nice cold milk and run into the living room to watch weekday
cartoons. I remember always having to race my dad into the living room to get
the good couch where the clicker was so I could pick the cartoons we would
watch.
Every time I beat him, I knew he let me win; that’s
my dad and I love him. As I grabbed the remote and scanned through the channels
I could see my dad staring at me. He knew I was going to choose something he didn’t
like. I would let him choose what to watch because I was too focused on my
coffee cake. I would be eating my coffee cake like a little mouse, piece by
piece. I would finish my first piece of coffee cake for the day, but there was a
lot more day ahead of us. I loved snow days when I was younger, mostly because
my mom made coffee cake. I would be in my pajamas all day, drink hot chocolate,
hangout with my mom and watch Rugrats. There was nothing I would rather do.
After a pretty good morning on the wonderful snow
day I would obviously go outside to play in the snow. Being outside in the snow
was always a fun and relaxing way to spend the day off from school. After playing
in the snow for a while, it was always nice to hear my mom’s delicate voice
yell out, “Chelsea, time to warm up with some hot chocolate.” I would run
towards the door, tripping and getting my boots caught in the high snow. Getting
to the door I take all of my wet clothes off as my mom is pouring me a nice cup
of hot chocolate. "Don’t forget the marshmallows mom." She puts it on
the table, as it sits there all by its lonesome. I can smell the warm sweetness
of the chocolate and the sharp sweetness of the melting marshmallow. I loved watching
the steam rise from the top of the cup as I went to grab it. As soon as I picked
it up the hot cup sent a burst of warmth in my hands to my arms. Trying to take
a sip but burning the tip of my tongue because it’s way too hot. The suspense
was killing me, grabbing the hot chocolate no caring how hot it was, chug,
chug, chug. Gone.
become a teenager you just start to grow apart from your parents. Growing up I am not as close to
my mom as I was or would like to be, but one day I came into the kitchen and noticed my mom was
making her famous coffee cake. I was in shock and looked at her with the biggest smile on my
face. This to me meant something we could do together, to bond. At the same moment I would be
trying to keep the drool from dripping. I asked her to wait and she asked “for what?” I ran to my
room, ran back and yelled "ill be right back." i raced out the door and went to a party store and
bought two cheap plastic crown. As little girls we all love to be close to our 'mommies’ and have
that special mother daughter relationship. When we grew up, and became adults things started
to change. I walked in door, placed the crown on her head and said "the princess needs her
coffee cake queen." You could see the glimmer of memories in her eye, and the soft spot that
had touched her heart. Being a bit more grown, my mother and I are as close as can and I wouldn’t
have it any other way. She’s my best friend. The coffee cake, no matter how silly it may sound is a
piece of our relationship. To this day I have dreams of the first time I even tried my mom’s coffee
cake and the great snow days we used to have. The great memories it brought the smiles, and joy that
everyone had was incredible and I wouldn’t trade those memories for anything in the world
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