“Why are you staring at me?

Are you plotting something nasty?

Are you planning for my demise?

Listen, Johnathan Edwards,

Stop your staring right now.

I’m uncomfortable.

I’m nervous.

Quit staring at me!

Oh, I see.

You are not staring at me at all.

You are staring at my sumptuous, heavenly, chocolate cake.

Yes, I made it myself.

It’s ever so inviting.

Go ahead and stare.

But in the end of the day,

It’s only for me to eat.

You may not…may not…

Oh, quit your sobbing.

Okay, you may have some too.”

“Thank you Grandmother.”

“You’re welcome.”