Bad Tools

Bad Tools

Bad Tools


Millie, Badly Drawn Mum

A bad workman blames his tools. I understand that. And I happily admit there are loads of things that I'm amazingly bad at. Take singing for example. Once at dusk on a camping holiday we each had to sing a song round the camp fire. Half way through my rendition of 'I Will Survive' an owl fell out of a tree. Up there with my terrible singing voice is a complete inability to bake. But today I confronted those demons after request with soon to be 4 year old daughter Evie.

Evie: Will you cook a dinosaur cake for my birthday? Me: What about a round one?

Evie: There are no round dinosaurs.

Me (sniggering): What about the Circle-asaurus?

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Evie: Don't be silly.

Me: Sorry.

I bought the cake mould and with a jaunty 'I could do this for a living' sort of whistle followed the recipe, and put it in the oven. How hard can it be, I thought? But at 5 o'clock this afternoon the results were, well, at best disappointing. The cake itself had the consistency of asphalt and tasted the same. Worst of all was trying to clean the cake mould - full twenty minutes of scrubbing btw. But I've done everything right. So it must be the oven. Put it this way, if a good workman's got bad tools, it's the tools' fault right? Yes I'm right.

- Monday 26th November 2012

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