I rolled over on Friday morning relishing the fact that I did not have to get up for school, then reality hit. In came my very own, self-made, tornado, all of three-years-old, with enough nuclear energy to keep Eskom in the black for a while. "Eggs, eggs!", screams the tornado.
As I dragged my protesting body from the bed and hauled it all-the-way to the kitchen in our huge (cubbyhole) house, nuclear bomb keeps going, "Eggs, eggs!" C'mon, how about some rice crispies with cold milk on this already freezing cold winter morning instead?" Nope, "eggs!" I made the eggs and they were...promptly discarded. You will need to read "Baking a mess" to understand any of this.
In fact I'm too exhausted now to talk about it.
