Below is a massively over-dramatic retelling of a simple task of making pancakes, you have been warned:

I went downstairs to get a pancake this evening (it’s Shove Tuesday / pancake day) to find my mum struggling to make them. I took over the duties with half the bottle of pancake mixture remaining, not a problem, there are only three people after pancakes (me, mum and my little brother). First thing I did was to give the batter a good shake. One small problem, the lid was only placed on, not screwed on. Pancake batter went all up my arm, leaving me with just four pancakes worth of batter.

My first attempt was a complete disaster, just as my mum’s attempts were. She gave up completely and left the room, the pressure was on! Three people, three portions of batter, no margin for error. My next two attempts produced flawed, but edible pancakes. My mum was happy with hers, I was happy with mine. My little brother was hiding it well, but I could tell he was disappointed. Enough batter remained for one pancake, I poured it into the pan, it seemed to hold together well. It was easily the best so far but it still needed flipping, this is where the previous pancake fell to bits (literally). I shook the pan a little to loosen the pancake, I tossed it skywards, it flipped, it landed! One perfect pancake and one very happy ten year old boy. What more could you ask for?