Johnny sat at the kitchen table as his mother whipped up a batch of donuts, explaining the importance of each ingredient as it went in the mixing bowl.
The phone rang just as she removed the last donut from the frier. She hung up to find that she was one donut short of a dozen, and turned to see little Johnny, angelically wiping donut crumbs from his mouth.
“Johnny!” She exclaimed. “Who gave you permission to eat that?”
He squinted in confusion. “You did,” he said. “When you put in the yeast, you told me there needed to be a leaven!”
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