I love how Christmas turns me into a walking talking Martha Stewart. Somehow, I'm channeling that woman's hormones. I've suddenly become an expert on table centerpieces, roasting the perfect turkey, and how to reheat turkey leftovers. I swear it's beginning to scare me.

What's really scaring me though, is that my 52 year old mum is now a fan of...Desperate Housewives. I remember when she first heard about the show she got all excited because I'm sure she pictured it as a show on Zee TV about lonely Indian housewives who are stuck at home in front of their stoves all day, cook, clean, and do all the housework and never get to have any fun. When the show was actually broadcast on Star World, I imagined she'd get totally miffed with all the raunchy scenes, but instead she's become a loyal fan and can easily name all the actresses off the top of her head. Of course, nothing is as priceless as her commentary:


"That Gabrielle no, she is such a wicked woman no? She is married and see what she is doing with that garden boy? Shee shee shee!"

Absolutely priceless mum.

You are reading this post on a blog is no longer maintained - please visit www.outinmyhead.com instead!