Pre Bake Off Nerves

People, people of my heart, it is The Great British Bake Off tonight. Yes. Tonight. In three hours in fact.

ERMAHGERD.

It is fair to say that the last time we as a family were this excited, Jason and I were about to jet off with the children to Las Vegas to get married.

Feelings are running pretty high.

We’ve had quite a few jobs to do today, and we have buzzed through all of them with alacrity, and bought in pizza for tea, so that we will be utterly and completely ready for Bake Off. Jason has reminded himself not to call me between the hours of eight and nine o’clock tonight, and all was in readiness.

Or was it?

We decided it might be a good idea to set our Sky box to record the entire series, just in case there is some sort of emergency and we are forced to miss some. What if Oscar chokes on a bit of pizza crust and I have to take him down the Royal, for example?

What if, like at two o’clock this morning (I am not sleeping. I am spending my spare hours revamping my mother’s Pinterest account. I have learned that there is such a thing as a carnival glass pickle castor), Derek brings in a small, wet mouse which must be chased up hill and down dale?

Talking of which, when this happened at two this morning I was totally on it, and managed to rescue the mouse with life and limb intact and boot it out whilst keeping Derek inside, all in under fifteen minutes. Ninja mouse rescue skills Ithankyew. In this I was helped by the feistiest mouse I have ever come across. At one point Derek dropped the mouse to see if she could get it to do a bit of jumping about, which she really likes. She sat back on her haunches to watch the mouse. The mouse sat back on its haunches to watch the cat. Derek idly poked a paw at the mouse to get it to do something brilliant. The mouse batted Derek with its paw in retaliation.

I kid you not.

It was at this point that I dropped a tea towel on the mouse and rescued it.

As I released it I idly wondered if it had actually needed rescuing, or whether I had spoiled the mouse’s fun.

Anyway, to get back to Bake Off issues. This sort of thing could happen right? So we are all safety first, and ‘don’t climb up that ladder in flip flops madam. You need the right equipment.’ We were so pleased with our forward planningness.

That was when we found out that the Sky Box had actually crashed, and we couldn’t get it to be totally off and onnable, and we were faced with a black, dead screen WHERE MY HEART SHOULD BE.

Catastrophe.

I texted Jason.

I knew he would be at work. He is a man who spends 95% of his life in VERY IMPORTANT MEETINGS taking a helicopter view of things. He did not need me to ring him in the middle of all this with my Bake Off emergency. Even though it was a massive emergency and for a nanosecond I actually thought about calling the emergency services, or possibly just the RAC.

Luckily he realised how important my text actually was, and halted the meeting to call me, and coach me through the finer details of bringing your Sky box back from the dead.

This is why I love him.

We are saved. And now we are all ready, and it is so blinking exciting I am chewing my cheeks in anticipation, and I am also a bit nervous in case it is a bit rubbish and not as good as I had hoped, and what if I don’t like it any more? And what if nobody is ever going to be as good as Brendan again, even though he was the series before last, and what if I haven’t got anything to say about it all?

And breathe, and let the cake carnage commence.

3 responses to “Pre Bake Off Nerves

  1. I rather envy you your general family excitement – my kids have *no* interest in GBBO. I tried to talk my 7-year-old daughter into it because she enjoyed the Allotment Challenge thing but apparently baking’s not as cool as growing things (and she liked the bearded hipsters in the allotment thing). So we’re recording it and will watch after the kids have gone to bed, which means avoiding twitter and facebook (oh noes, baking spoilers!). Anyway, enjoy!

  2. That is a shame. We are all crazy like catnip for this thing. Except Jason, but that’s because he doesn’t let himself be. If he’s around, he gets sucked into it all and then shouts ‘gah!’ and ‘you’re infecting me!’ and then runs away.

  3. Ha! We recorded the first episode and I ‘just happened’ to play it on Sunday morning – seven-year-old hooked within a minute and a half. Mission accomplished. And the Boychild is happy to watch it as long as he can play Mineraft or Terraria at the same time, which pretty much summarises his outlook on life.

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