In primary school, I had a friend whose parents own a bakery.
It was a small shop in town and wasn’t anything fancy or posh, but well supported by the community.
She always smelled like baking; baked dough and sweet cream. She used to get teased a little by classmates because of the scent she carried, but I thought she smelled amazing and used to follow her everywhere.
I even followed her home one day, of course, with her invitation. Her house was joined to their little bakery and, she walked through the shop when she came home from school. She grabbed one or two sweetened buns on the way to her room for me. Her life seemed so much more luxurious than mine and I wished that my parents owned a bakery,too.
I made a boy instead of a girl. Because I wanted to add a hat, I kept the hair simple. A little boy baker would be cute, I thought.
Wouldn’t it be nice if they bake you fresh bread every day?