THE INSOMNIAC DAY 43 by Daisy Waitherero Wambua

I have always known I will be one of those mothers who buy cake for their kids instead of baking one. Who said baking is what makes a mother a mother? If I ‘birthed’ you then that is it, my job is done. I have earned the title, I have carried myself for two decades plus so in a farfetched way I have been my secondary mother even before I have walked down the aisle. You don’t see me baking myself anything and for that reason those nine months are not of my concern. Apologies to all the actual real mothers, my condolences to your freedom of having to lack certain knowledge.

It’s going to be a long night ahead and no one gives great company like Martha Stewart. She is so inspiring; gives hope to all the cooks out there and all the non-cooks who still try to cook and they are already in their forties. Better switch up hobbies; if they cancel dinner on you for a decade, sweetheart bless your heart. They will never make it even when 2030 comes, let’s just say it is not in their vision.

I love good food, if it isn’t good then I am not eating it unless it is the serious case of munchies; with munchies I can even eat a sponge and assume its vanilla sponge cake. It gets realer. Determined to pull a Hell’s kitchen in this house and I am not even prepared for the heat. Raise your hand if you know what a skewer is, anyone? A dredger? A marzipan spacer?
Crickets………plus I really can’t see you, you know, the art of writing and everything.

May the games begin, so far I have a mixing bowl, baking powder and a sieve. How efficient am I? Somebody bow down. Clearly this ship is about to pull a titanic on me but I’m going to bring a Noah stunt and save us all. For I have a dream and my dream is to bake cake, cookies and biscuits for my proponents of good genes and not even a dredger will stop me!

Two hours into time, I am already tired of running around the house trying to coincide with whatever Stewart is saying and doing. Zero knowledge of what she is talking about therefore proving my work half-baked, literally. It became more of a work out session than a baking frenzy. With a void existing in my culinary skills, zero to non-tools, Instagram posting of \bakingtingz \kenyanmarthastewart \isacutteraknife? And constant replying of text and WhatsApp messages my baking didn’t even take off, sad tale. Here I am staring at food network wondering; Martha Stewart, who is your mother?



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