Banner
So what do you when your secret crush puts a banner up over their bakery with a glaring typo in the text?
Do you go and tell them? Or do you decide to fix it?
Is there even a choice?
I saw the banner in front of the bakery's large bay window when I came home at seven and was so tired that I didn't catch the typo.
And then I stopped in my tracks, glanced up at the offensive sheet of plastic. It really said Cak!
I muttered, "He spelled Cake wrong! Was he sleeping or something when he ordered the damn thing?"
It took me two hours to think up a plan to fix the darn banner, mostly because I sat on my couch and slept for almost two hours.
I woke at eight and stumbled to the office to grab a new sharpie, and then stumbled to the shed to get my ladder.
Easy peasy. Just climb on the ladder, write an e, and no one would be the wiser.
All went well. Until chaos struck. A gust of wind flapped the banner into my face, I panicked and the ladder fell and I clasped on for dear life to the banner. And then the door to the bakery opened, and he walked out, a grin on his face. “What are you doing?"
I held on to the banner for dear life, “Correcting a typo?”
He grinned, “Well… Good job!”
He walked up to me, wrapped his arms around me, hugging my bum to his body in the process, and said, “You can let go.”
He slid me down his body, put my feet on the ground and said, “I knew you would come.”
I swerved around, “What?”
“Come on, I know how to spell cake! I've been thinking of ways to get your attention for weeks."
I blushed. He smiled, and then his arms wrapped all around me.
I whispered, "Hi Jasper."
"Hi Caroline."
He kissed me. Quite thoroughly, in fact.