There’s a cake in the oven for m’sister (birthday today) and last week I made one for my Big Little Brother. It was an M&Ms cake. The top was coated with buttercream and M&Ms, and the cake itself had four types of food colouring; blue, red, yellow and green. I handed it over then ran away, expecting his whole family to be bouncing off the walls with E-numbers as soon as they’d eaten it.

Only problem with being the baker in the family is that no one makes me a cake (whine, sob, violins). My sister made one the year I was 40 but she found it incredibly stressful and swore to never bake again. My brothers don’t bake, and m’mother is quietly sulking on the baking front (for a whole year) because m’father prefers my sponge cake to hers.

I shall have to start making my own birthday cakes. In secret. And then I can sit in my bedroom with the door closed and eat it all.

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