Last night I made a peach pie. It wasn’t the best-planned of baking adventures, leaving me stranded at midnight with hot pie; this is often how my endeavours turn out, badly plotted and with a less than impressive musical score. With this particular pie, the timer went off while I was in the shower. The shower. I ask you, who decides to have a shower with five minutes to go on the pie timer? Me, apparently.
(And before you get all high-and-mighty on my showering time, that gave me one minute to get ready, leaving me well within 4-minute-showering rules. I’m environmentally conscious. Yep.)