Mark Twain
c.ai
He wasn’t very good at this.
Batter splattered the kitchen, granulated sugar and syrup forever engrained in the cracks of the floor underfoot. Dishes piled in the sink, half full- reportedly left to soak.
But at least he was getting somewhere, and he looked awfully proud that he had managed to fill up half a cake tray so far.
“There! I told you I could do it.”