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// A Homecoming: 4 
// Story: The Pink Room 
// by Ponyess 
//------------------------------//

Of course I wear my white cotton panties and bra, just regular comfortable underwear.  The same I always wear, when I am outside my own home.

A pair of tight, soft, elastic and shiny black pants, comfortable to wear, when I am outside.  This is one of the days, when these are particularly convenient and comfortable.

When I go out, I wear a large, loose fitting black silk gown. Otherwise, I only wear shoes when I go out.

Based on the ultra sounds, I had managed to order a suit for my unborn girl well in advance.  She is wearing this as I walk over the threshold of my home.  I ended up choosing the pink with blue and yellow balloons.  Incidentally, the suit is made out of hyper elastic latex, rather than the common cotton.

Not sure exactly what possessed me, when I made the choice.  At least, I can clean it easily; if and when needed.  She is gently pressed against my belly, where I know where she is, and she can have all the benefit of the comfort of feeling my warmth.

“What is that?” I ponder; as the scent of baking hit my nose, as I enter my home.

“Wait, I know we do not have anything fresh baked at home; just as I know we did not bake anything, this week!” I exclaim, a moment later.

No, we did indeed have nothing freshly baked at home this last week.  I am utterly certain of it.  Yet, now the scent of freshly baked muffins is quite unmistakable.

The most logical explanation, is that there is a bakery behind our home.  Of course, I know better; than expecting anyone to open a bakery behind my home, during the short time i had been at the maternity.  My delivery did not take all that long.  Not even if everything before the delivery is considered.

“If there are indeed muffins on the table in my kitchen, which variety would I choose!” I exclaim, smiling at the preposterous notion.

I slip my shoes off of my feet, right and left; once I had closed the door behind myself and looked the door.  As I had slipped my shoes into place, I walk into the kitchen.  Curious as to what the scent could possibly be; I just had to go and examine it, for myself.

While there is no muffin on the table, there is a large cake.  It is at least large, for my standards; even if that is not all that much.  Right now, I am alone with my little girl; at least, that is what I had been expecting.  Someone had baked the cake and left it on my kitchen table.  Maybe the baker had left.

I rarely enjoy cake, but I have everything required; for me to enjoy it, when I actually do have one and someone to share it with.  While I did not exactly expect to have anyone to share it with.

On second thought; I ended up picking a small place, a spoon and a cake knife with me back to the table.  Once I sit by the table, I cut a small slice out of what is to pass for my cake and slip it onto the small plate.

With my daughter still resting firmly against my chest, I pick up the spoon and dig in.  In surprise, I realize that the cake is quite tasty.

“Wait!” I exclaim; “I never expected this to be so good!” I ponder, as I reflect upon the situation.

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