sugar, sugar

My sister is coming. She is not really looking after Ferdinand; Ferdinand is 6’4” and 17 and he goes to bed about four hours later than I do. He also lives across the street from me. But I don’t like the idea that if he needs something, and I am away for a few days, there is no one in my house. So I asked my sister to come and I am trying to figure out what to cook.
The truth is, my sister likes candy. Candy, cake, cookies, pie, ice cream, you know, sugar. She is like me. And like me, she doesn’t like to eat a lot of it, but it makes her happy to know it is in the house. She gets excited by the visuals. So maybe I won’t cook so much as arrange. Because sure, homemade is great, but when you grow up in a house where if you wanted sugar, homemade was the only sugar you were going to get, there is an unexplainable thrill you get from a pack of Oreos.

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