Dear Dead Bread-
I had every intent of turning you into two warm and beautiful loaves for the family to devour through out our Sabbath Day. I planned on dressing you in that good honey butter we get, and maybe some freezer jam. I promise I did.
You could blame the kitchen. It is always so cold in the mornings. Not kind to you wanting to rise. I know you like the sitting on the dryer. The sun comes through in the afternoons and cooks that little room right up. But it was morning. I let you try cold kitchen, and you took too long.
I punched you down and made you wait in the fridge. Maybe after the day of activities we could start anew- me and you. But it was much much later when I came home.
I decided to cheat you, hurry you along in a warmed up oven. You started to grow for me despite my obviously negligence. But then I had to get the kids to bed all by myself since Jake was at a Basketball game. And they WERE so much trouble. Don't you remember hearing Katerade ask for three drinks of water, something to eat, to get her hat, her blanket, and then a drink in a different cup. Then there was the house. It wasn't the kitchen's fault this time. The family room was such a mess, then I ended up online.... oh you know how I can be. And you were forgoten. I remembered you when I went to re heat last nights Chinese take out. I found the oven slightly ajar, and you inside.
I'm sorry little ball of dough. I ruined your potential. Please forgive me.
Maybe next week then?
The Girl with the Plan