Muffins are basically cake for breakfast. That is there main
strength. And, being as I ain’t the skinniest mother around, I
shouldn’t be eating them.

But some mornings, on alternate muffin/bagel days, there they are
oozing warmth. They speak to me. Literally. I can hear a distant
muffled, muffin murmur. (I should be killed for excessive
alliteration just there.)

So, today I dine on muffins, free muffins at that, and reflect that
there are worse jobs.