Mary Beth Writes
October 24, 2017
Posted by Mary Beth

Virginia swore under her breath as she kneaded, pounded, and rolled out her third batch of cinnamon rolls. The cat, startled by the racket, ran from the kitchen. Virginia stomped across her tiny kitchen to microwave the butter. She measured the cinnamon and sugar and then sprinkled it over the smeared melted butter with absolutely no patience for what she was doing.