My Hometown

My Hometown

The Bakery Mishap

As anyone in business knows, in order for something new to thrive they have to be unique, have to cater to their surroundings, and have to offer something that can’t be gotten elsewhere.

Day in and day out, part of my daily responsibilities are to help our clients figure out where the best locations are to launch their very specific business and why.

I can’t help but refer the story of Johnson’s Bakery in my hometown.

Sure, it is the best bakery to visit even to this day, but whenever something new opened up on our square, our town always resisted the change.

However, there were a few curious minds that wanted to check it out and see what they were all about before passing judgement; i.e. my mom and grandma.

On a chilly day in February, mom and grandma debated at the kitchen table about how to check the place out and not come across as rude busybodies.

Eventually, they landed on the idea that they would bring me along with them and buy a cookie for me; I was okay with this because at 3-year’s old your world revolves around only a few things (Big Bird, nap time, and cookies).

So with me in tow, wearing my yellow Big Bird jacket, we went to Johnson’s to check it out.

The glass cases at the front of the store were filled with all sorts of home baked goodies; donuts, butter cookies, muffins, and even a chocolate chip cookie cake the size of my head.

But as mom and grandma surveyed the items in the cases at the counter, it was the cakes in the front window that caught my attention.

I wandered over to them and my eyes opened with excitement.

Whipped cream covered cakes that had “Happy Birthday” written in frosting on them.

Chocolate cakes with vanilla frosting.

And a strawberry covered cake with strawberry jam on top of it.

By the time, mom and grandma had noticed I wandered off it was already too late.

My mouth, chin, and yellow Big Bird jacket was covered in red, and the cake in the window….

Well, Mrs. Johnson charged my mom and grandma $7.00 for that destroyed mess.


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