The first clue that I was spiraling into one of my occasional bouts of madness was when I came home with three different Gordon Ramsey and Julia Child based cookbooks, over 20 different novels and my Mum’s reaction to when I told her about my little projects:
Mum: What are those for?
Me: I’m going to learn how to cook. About a recipe a day. Maybe two. And read. Like a ton of books.
Mum: *gives me the side-eye* Mhmm….. those are French cook books.
Me: Yeah, I know. I like French food.
Mum: *long pause* Why exactly are you doing this?
Me: Well, you always said that I needed to learn how to cook so I decided to make an earnest attempt. It’ll be like a regimen. And I like to read. Now I just have a set goal, y’know?
Mum: Oh Dear…..
At this age, I guess I should know that when my Mum gives me the side-eye it’s bad news bears. I should know this, but I never seem to be able to remember until it’s too late.