I could smell the aroma of freshly baked bread coming from the kitchen. I went into the kitchen and saw the dark brown loaf of rye bread sitting on the windowsill to cool. I couldn’t resist—I grabbed a sharp knife from the counter and cut a thick slice of the warm bread. I loved the strong taste of the caraway seeds that Mom always mixed into her homemade loaves of rye. I was so engrossed in enjoying the bread that I didn’t even notice that Mom had entered the kitchen until I heard the door close loudly behind her. Uh-oh! I was caught!

The aroma of freshly baked rye bread called to me from the kitchen. It was a beacon that guided me to the windowsill where the loaf was set to cool. I was powerless in the face of such immense temptation. The sharp knife sliced through the warm bread as smoothly as a butter knife through softened butter. The warm caraway seeds were like licorice drops melting in my mouth. I didn’t notice that Mom had come back into the kitchen until SLAM! The screen door closed behind her, and I spun around, caught red-handed!