Guns and Roses

Chapter Nine Part I

You know that feeling you get when you can't get something right? No matter how much you try you just can't that damn thing perfect?

Well, for me that thorn in my ass is baking.

Don't get me wrong. You would think Alexis, the ultimate black cat, the badass gangster is struggling to bake cakes? As a matter of fact, why am I even trying to?

Well, there was a time when the entire left wing of the mansion used to be filled with the aroma of freshly baked chocolate truffle cakes. I used to love to wake up to that heavenly smell every weekend.

But now, the baking oven is cold and we both miss it a lot.

And so Hobson and I are trying our best to revive those days.

Unfortunately, we both suck at baking.

"How has eez come out, Miss?" she asked.

I sighed "Burnt charcoal black Hobson"

Hobson chuckled "No worries Miss. We try again"

She picked up a pair of mittens and slid them on. Soon, my precious albeit burnt cupcakes were in the dustbin. I peered sadly over the dustbin before Hobson slammed the lid shut.

"I give up!" I screeched and raised my hands in frustration. That had been my third try today.

Hobson chuckled and picked out a new batch of eggs from the refrigerator "You must not, Miss. Do zee not want to taste yur own cahkes?"

I sighed and rubbed my sore hands. "There must be some cake science involved in this. I just don't seem to get it !" I hopped on to the high chair near the kitchen counter and plopped my head in my hands.

She laughed at me as she added flour, butter and some baking powder to the mixture. Soon all the other ingredients were mixed and transferred to a mixing bowl.

Hobson rolled up her sleeves and got ready for another round of mixing for the batter. This was the most tiring part and I watched in silence as she mixed it to get the perfect consistency of the batter.

After a while, Hobson spoke up "How was your school today, Miss?"

I cringed as I thought about school after lunch. Summer had dragged me to all classes I had with her until I had to make an excuse and escape from Miss Perfect. Her cheery attitude bugged me a lot. For her, the sun could be shining all the while.

It made me wonder how I made it back home without biting her head off.

"Miss?" Hobson asked again, as she struggled to mix the batter. Her hands must be hurting from all that mixing.

I hopped off the high chair and gently prised her hands off the bowl. She smiled at me and took a weary step to the high chair.