Chapter 3

“Miss, Miss, I’ll get!”

8 pm.

“Goodnight cuties, sleep well. Love you”.

“Love you too, Mama. Oh, I have to take 100 Brownies tomorrow morning for the Fun Fair. Goodnight.”

Are you kidding me right now?? 

I would realize quickly that this was going to become the norm. Any picnic, teachers day, fun fair, field trip, and my kids would be the first to raise their hand and volunteer to get Brownies or Cookies. “But everyone loves your brownies, Mama.”

But how is that my problem??

Cut to 8.30 pm. Neighbours’ doorbells are rung. Do you have extra butter? Eggs?

Fooled into thinking I could just settle down for the night to watch the next episode of Wife Swap (hey, don’t knock it, this was in the days of yore), the kitchen soon turned into a mini disaster zone straight out of Hell’s Kitchen, and I was Gordon Ramsay. It’s worth mentioning here that while I was immersed in sounds of industry, my husband would watch reruns of Hannah Montana after the kids went to sleep (dubiously claiming that the kids had just left the TV on).

Fun fact of zero consequence - did you know there was an Indian version of the show Wife Swap called Maa Exchange?! Ah, the golden age of television.

It was tempting to wonder - what if this mother had to be swapped in real life? Would I still be making 100 Brownies at 9 pm on Sunday evening, I pondered fleetingly while grinding sugar in a VERY noisy but trusted Sumeet grinder. At times it seemed as if the grinder itself was also protesting at being woken up in the night to WORK. It wouldn’t get any sympathy from me, that’s for sure. Who said life’s a breeze Sumeet? After all, you get sit in your cozy corner in the cupboard, working just once a day for 10 minutes grinding chutneys and thoom masalas. Save your whining for the next guy.

Nevertheless, cake pans were soon being buttered, chocolate getting chopped, flour being measured, and a hungry husband (if I don’t eat, you don’t eat, bud) assigned the task of folding cake boxes and getting them ready to be filled up. Brownie batter would be poured into the pans, two at a time, with the next batch prepped to be shoved in as soon as the first two came out.

Cut to midnight. 100 still-hot brownies ready to be cut in the morning and packed.

Cut to 5 am. Brownies, breakfast, car pool. Peace.

I would whine and complain while making them, but the joy and pride on my kids’ faces when their friends appreciated the brownies was validation enough😊.

“A brownie a day, keeps the frownie away”.