Often on Saturday mornings Henry and I journey up the street to the local bakery. When we go we always get a chocolate, zucchini muffin for grandma. And since we are at the bakery anyway, we get a cranberry muffin for ourselves. I carry grandma’s muffin, while Henry caries ours with strict instructions to not sneak any on the way home. We deliver grandma’s to her, complete with a nice tall glass of cold milk. Then we go out to the front porch swing to enjoy ours. The long standing tradition in our house is for one person to divide the muffin. The other person then gets first choice of the two halves. This ensures equal shares and no complaining later. Today, it was my turn to divide the muffin under Henry’s watchful eye. No matter though, for he ate his half in an instant and then asked for a second share of mine. :)
