It is Easter. The kids are off school, the house is a tip and I have loads of work to get through before we go to Cornwall for the long weekend. Happy holidays! I can’t wait, but am in that trying-not-to-panic-mode, about how much I have to sort out before we leave.
On my to do list is buying my daughters Easter eggs (although I am sure chocolate eggs have reached Cornwall, I like to be prepared). I want to get them these ones from the Co-op. There’s popping candy in the middle – to blow their little minds – and they’ve had five star reviews from everyone.
My not-so-little-anymore daughter is 6 whilst we’re away, so I’m going to make her this carrot cake as her birthday/Easter cake. I won’t tell her it has carrot in it – I am not foolish – and will decorate it with a surfeit of fluorescent chicks and fake bunnies to distract her from its vegetablely-ness.
Carrot cake keeps quite well, so it should last the car journey to Cornwall. I will hide it in the boot of the Volvo estate I bought today as part of my final descent in to middle age, which I fear will end with me moving to Tunbridge Wells and only buying trousers with elasticated waists*. It has a huge boot – big enough to hide a dead body in – so I am sure I will be able to squirrel away a tupperware cake box and her present of some extremely sparkly Lelli Kelly shoes (please, don’t judge me) without her noticing. Happy Easter everyone.
* Quite a good idea, actually.