When my mother died I claimed her mixer,
But it was missing a large bowl,
So I bought a set of several sizes,
Thinking this would make it whole.
I was making a carrot cake for
The birthday of my "other mother,"
When the batter slung all over the kitchen
Like sweet, orange melted butter.
The mixer twirled that bowl around
At such a fantastic speed
I wished I had a sister here;
We'd have had quite a laugh, indeed.
It seems that my mom's mixer is
Much more powerful than mine,
Or is this a little prank they played,
My mom and her Divine?