Abuela Kate was a baker of cakes.
Kate baked cakes that people ate.
The problem Kate had, I’m sorry to say,
was that she wrote names in a peculiar way.
Instead of writing a person’s true name,
Kate wrote words that sounded the same.
One sunny Saturday morning, Sate walked into Abuela Kate’s Bake Shop and ordered a cake for her brother, Nate’s, birthday. Abuela, obsessed with rhyming clues, wrote the name "Zate" in the cake order book as her rhyming clue for Nate. One chocolate cake with fluffy white frosting and rainbow sprinkles for “Zate,” she wrote.
The rhyming clue would have been fine, if Abuela had remembered that Zate was a rhyming clue for the name, Nate.
But she didn’t recall, not at all. All Abuela knew was that the cake was for someone whose name rhymed with Zate, or perhaps it was for someone who was always late or who worked on a ship as the captain’s mate, or someone going out on a date.
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