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After Matt and I met, I remember thinking I would try to start cooking. Being DINKY’s we ate out or had take away pretty much all the time.  So, I bought a recipe book (the internet wasn’t on my radar in 1998), opened it, and had a look at a few things I thought looked good. I’d look at the ingredients, and then the instructions. The problem was I could get so far but never finish the recipe. Why? I hear you mumble to yourself…..I shall tell you. At some point or other it would mention seasoning, either check it, add it to taste, or a simple instruction to season. Whatever format it took, I had to do it and that is where I failed to be able to cook dinner, after all, what was this ‘seasoning’ they referred to? I had no idea. Seriously, I didn’t. Shameful, I know. Stop laughing, no really, STOP laughing.  I only started to cook when the kids were born, out of necessity, and I am still no Gordon Ramsay.

I placed a meal in front of Georgia yesterday, to which she replied “Erm, mum, I think you forgot to season this. It tastes a little bland”. At the age of 6, her culinary expectations already surpass my competence. Marvellous.

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