Cake I like.

That's reportedly the first semi-coherent thought I ever produced at a typewriter. It propelled me to gold-medal victory over two male cousins when we were all toddling around in onesies, trying to learn not to poop on ourselves, and blissfully unaware that our every accomplishment was being measured and judged in the unofficial baby races unofficially held by our doting parents. As you can see, I have since learned to eschew brevity for verbosity, but my first published work continues to pop up from time to time.

And today it appeared on a massive cake my family sent to my office: