This is a story Mom F told me about when she and her brother Allen were still school-age. Grandma must have been away housekeeping when Allen (my Dad Vance) got this craving to eat cake.
One day she’d had been later home from school than Allen for some reason, and he came running down the road to meet her. “Myrt,” he announced, “I baked us a cake.”
“You did!” Her mouth was already watering at the thought. “Oh, that was really good of you.”
“Yeah, but, umm….. It looks funny and it doesn’t seem to taste right.”
“Oh? Did you remember the flour?”
“Yes.”
“The baking powder?”
“Yes.”
“Did you remember to add the sugar and the eggs?”
“The recipe didn’t call for any sugar.”
“What! It didn’t call for sugar? What kind of a cake was it?”
Allen shrugged. “I don’t know. It was just called “Pancake.”
Vance Turner Connect 