Mice and Cheesecake Don’t Mix
I have an interesting story about a cheesecake. My nephew was having a surprise birthday party for his mother a few years ago at Christmas. His twin sister asked him to make his famous New York Chocolate Cheesecake for the party.
He went to the store and spent an arm and a leg for all the ingredients. He liked to have fun while he was baking, so he put his Santa hat on along with some Christmas music.
It took him several hours to make the cheesecake. He did not want his mother to see it so he took it out to the work shop to cool for the night.”
Now as Paul Harvey would say, “Here is the rest of the story.”
A family of mice had moved into his workshop for the winter. They were wondering what they were going to eat for Christmas dinner. Their son saw the chocolate cheesecake cooling on the workbench, and ran over to the hole in the wall and said, “Mom and dad, Santa has delivered us a wheal of chocolate cheese for Christmas.
His parents waited for dark then went out to investigate their son’s story. Sure enough, nestled on the workbench between the electric sander and electric drill, was a chocolate wheal of cheese.
The mice family spent the night celebrating. Some of the brave boys did a belly flop into the middle of the cake. They climbed up to the top of the workbench then out onto the shelf that was about two feet above the cake and jumped. The girls tried to do a ballerina dance in the center of the cake, but their feet got stuck in the gooey mess.
Their parents told them, “Stop playing, we have to work fast, and take as much of this chocolate wheal of cheese back to our home before morning. Remember, at first light we have to hide.
The mice family was generous so they sent for their neighbours to share in their wheel of fortune. The word soon spread around the neighbourhood that there was a chocolate cheese party. Come and get all you want. There is plenty for everyone.
By eight in the morning, the plate was just about empty.
My nephew was whistling as he opened the door of the garage, to retrieve his New York Chocolate Cheese Cake. Two bad there wasn’t a camera. His face froze in anger. Several mice sat on the silver plate eating the leftover crumbs of the cheesecake.
“Mice, we have mice,” He shouted as he ran to get some mice traps.
The mice parents had trained their children well, and he never caught any.
His wife bought him a cat for Christmas. She told me that the mice family packed their bags and moved down the street the next day.”
The story of the mice and the New York Chocolate Cheesecake is true. My nephew had to rush to the store and make another Cheese Cake for his mother’s birthday party that afternoon. He put it into the freezer, to cool. The mice story was the talk of the Birthday Party.”
© Ethel Wicksey
From my novel, “Return to Erieau.”
This idea came from my sister Barbara. Her son made her a chocolate cheesecake for her birthday and some mice got into it.
