A few weeks ago, I brought some sticky buns to my neighbors upstairs, who recently had a baby girl. Despite a few inquiries as to the butter content, which I refused to entertain on principle, they seemed to go over well. I mean, nothing's exactly wrong with laminated brioche dough with a walnut sugar crust. Or a caramel lemon cacao nut crust...
At any rate, the butter content clearly led them to discern my essential trustworthiness, because a few weeks later, they brought a gift down for me.
To be fair, they took her back in a couple of hours, but it was good while it lasted. Much like the sticky buns. They also brought me some dumplings, which are still residing in the freezer to comfort me.
The gold star, of course, goes to upstairs neighbor Clarence's father, who, when the butter content went unrevealed, suggested that he should probably butter them before eating.