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BACK WHEN my three children were young, our niece and nephew also lived with us. While my wife was at work one day, I decided to bake a white cake complete with pink icing.

Because the kitchen was hot from baking the cake, I put it in the garage to cool, setting it safely out of the way on the roof of my station wagon.

A while later, my niece called and said she needed a ride home from town, which is a 7-mile round trip. So I jumped in the car and off I drove. When we returned, I put the car in the garage and shut the garage door.

It wasn't until after dinner when everyone asked "What's for dessert?" that I remembered the cake. "Oh, no!" I cried as I jumped up and ran to the garage.

There sat the pink cake up against the luggage rack on the roof of the car. It leaned a little, but it had sure cooled off during its 7-mile ride. We ate every last slice. —Paul LaBar, Bangor, Pennsylvania