I miss being a kid. When you were a kid your mum combed your hair, gave you a great breakfast in the morning, and hugs were an essential part of your day. We would roll around in the grass and sand, fall down in the dirt and still be laughing, and put uneaten chocolate bars in our pant pockets for snacking upon later. We would laugh at Tom & Jerry, cry over Bambi, and share chocolate sandwiches with our best friends during recess. We would wonder why adults were so worried about growing old, and we never thought twice about asking God for a little help every now and then. We could memorize the names of the other 29 kids in our class without browsing through our cell phone's address book. We would bound up 4 flights of stairs and still be breathing normally. We could stand big eyed and teary in the middle of a store and someone would come pick us up and help us find our parents. We were kings and queens in our childhood and we never knew it.

Baking powder is my new enemy in the kitchen. Having forgotten to add 1 tablespoon of it to my Christmas fruit cake batter, my gloriously rich Christmas cake has come out as a Christmas pudding. My mother is freaking out...she thinks it's been poisoned or cannot be eaten. My simple solution is to serve a slice on a small plate, pour brandy over it, and flambe it at the table, whilst at the same time giving it some exotic name so that no one notices it's actually totally fucked up Christmas cake.

Cheers!

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