Right now, all we see are trees, trees, and more trees. And three more vegetable fields with even bigger signs posted on the fences surrounding them. Warning signs that read: TOUCH VEGETABLES AT YOUR OWN RISK!

“What are those anyway?” Jonah asks, pointing at the leafy green plants poking out of the ground in neat rows.

“Spinach?” I say, wrinkling my nose. “Oh, wait, no — that’s kale! Mom wanted to make me a kale smoothie the other day when she was having one. Thanks, but no, thanks.”

“What’s a smoothie?” Gretel asks.

“It’s fruit and veggies and ice all mixed together. Usually they’re good but not when they have kale in them.”

“I’ve never had kale,” she says wistfully.

“Where’s the cake house?” Hansel demands. “I want cake!”

I’m beginning to wonder if we’ll ever find the cake house. Maybe Prince isn’t tracking the scent after all.

“I’m tired,” Gretel complains, frowning. “Your dumb dog is leading us on a wild dog chase.”

“Yeah,” Hansel says. He picks up a rock and tosses it at Prince, just missing.

“Hey!” I shout.

“So?” Hansel says. “It’s just a dog.”

“Just a dog?” I say. “What’s wrong with you? And he’s not dumb. Be nice to him!”

Gretel puts her hands on her hips. “Don’t tell my brother what to do!”

Ugh. I swear I don’t remember Hansel and Gretel being this awful in the original story.

Jonah and I aren’t this awful, are we?

No. We can’t be.

Maybe they’re just really hungry. Who knows when the last meal they had was? Pieces of bread are not a meal. I can’t blame them for not being in the best mood.

But … being hungry is not an excuse to throw rocks at dogs.

“Abby,” Jonah says, pointing. “Look! A house!”

Up ahead, through some trees, is a totally adorable cottage. It’s light pink with a light-brown roof. The windows are trimmed in red and white.

“That’s not our house,” Gretel says. “Our house is half the size and mud brown.” She stares at the cottage. “The doorknob looks like a cookie. I’m so hungry my eyes must be playing tricks on me.”

It does look like a cookie. A chocolate-chip cookie. And the trim around the strawberry-colored door looks like pie crust.

Because it is a chocolate-chip cookie. And it is a pie crust. It’s the cake house!

We found it! I bend down and scratch behind my dog’s ears. Good job, Prince!

Jonah lifts his nose and sniffs the air. “Do you smell strawberry shortcake?” he asks.

“And brownies?” Hansel says.

“And gingerbread?” Gretel says.

“Yup, yup, and yup,” I say, smiling. “You’re all correct. This, my friends, is the cake house.”

Gretel’s eyes almost pop out of her face, slinky style. “It’s real?” she asks.

“Told you so,” I say smugly. Take that, Gretel!

“Hunnnnnngry,” Hansel says. “Want candy.”

“Me too,” says Gretel. “Come on, Hansel. Let’s go!”

I grin at Jonah. We’re here. Whew. Now the story can unfold exactly the way it’s supposed to. Yay, us.