Calvin, having pronounced the cake a humdinger, unwittingly sets Jenny off into another Spry-related oration. Sure, they get tiresome from time to time, but Spry does bring home the bacon, so to speak, so he just lets her go on. Aunt Jenny suffers from a slight touch of absent-mindedness, though - she speaks of Spry as though it’s a new addition to her culinary arsenal, instead of a long-beloved mainstay. Calvin thinks: your cakes have been wonderful since 1912, you mean. Well, let it go.

In Aunt Jenny’s house, the cakes are always turned away from the people eating. You take a slice, put it on a plate, take another slice, then rotate the cake so it looks perfect. As though no one had ever sullied it with a knife. As pure as the day it was born. And who’s to say cakes aren’t born? Why, pullin’ one out of the oven’s just like giving birth, and sometimes just as painful - burns? Lawd, she could write a textbook. But you know what heals the burn right fast? SPRY!