Few things remind me of childhood more than pudding. Watching my mom stir for what seemed like hours on end. Delicately spooning the mixture into bowls, making sure my brother and I got the exact same amount. Waiting impatiently while the pudding set in the fridge - always on the highest shelf to keep it out of reach from my greedy hands. The finger-swipe through the pot to tantalize my taste buds. A second, third and fourth taste. Finally getting to dig into to the chilled delicious pudding.

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