On my birthday, he made a bowl of egg cake with five eggs and a bowl of flour.
He said that people in big cities eat cakes on their birthdays, not only with eggs, but also with cream, icing sugar, and chocolate filling.
I drooled and asked him what flavor the birthday cake was.
He frowned and said it was too sweet, only children like it.
I asked him how he knew the taste of the cake.
But Uriah covered his head and said his head hurt, scaring me so much that I dared not ask again, nor did I dare to think about the taste of the birthday cake.
That day, Uriah was beaten by my mother for stealing eggs from home.
My mother scolded him for being wasteful and said he stole eggs, and even stole five at once!
For our poor family, selling five eggs could be worth a day's meal money.
Uriah didn't say a word and didn't mention that I had eaten all those eggs.
After being beaten, he lay on the bed and made a promise to me.
"Uma, when I have a future and leave this mountain, I will definitely let you taste a real birthday cake!"
I felt sorry for him and shook my head, saying I didn't want it.
The birthday cake may be delicious, but Uriah is more important.