The Ultimate Playdate Faux-pas

..this gentle reader is worse than flashing a father of one of the children or starting a cat fight with one of the mothers who really deserves it.

This is tantamount to playdate suicide. I speak of the unspeakable crime of baking when you have little darlings over.

I am guilty and hang my head in shame. I only baked 2 dozen sumptuous lemon and almond madelines. I should have realised I was playing with the big kids but no I thought I could get away with it! All criminals think that but it's a fair cop guv'nor. Slap on the cuffs and just let me know how long I'll be inside.

Baking smacks of an age of domesticity that is no longer a part of society. I am an educated woman and I vote but I also bake. I should thank my brother for my introduction to Nigella Lawson and her tantalising treats but I digress.

Why is it so wrong I wonder? I suppose that in such a ready-made age baking is almost an ancient craft that has anecdotes attached. I remember my own grandmother baking Viennese whirls and they were great. I have yet to reproduce their beautiful simplicity and fantastic taste and I am a relatively accomplished baker.

Why is it that we don't bake but can relish a bought cake? I have always baked for my girls and think that it is something I should do for them. OK a home-baked cake never looks as wonderful as a bought one unless you are my friend, Kate.

So anyway, let me return to the point, I thought I'd whip up some cakes for the girls whilst they were all here playing; they loved them . The realisation hit me that I was baking but had now set a precedent for future playdates here and had given mothers additional pressure. I was now the mother that baked and little girls now asked their mothers why they didn't. We all have our talents. Why on earth am I putting so much emphasis on this?

It is simple, a friend of ours is always amazed when I cook something and he asks, "from scratch?", "naturally" I reply. His idea is if we can buy why go to the effort of making? I like a challenge and also find baking therapeutic. How have we become so reliant of everything being done for us? Convenience starts with "con" remember. We will pay a price one way or another.

In a time when we have also lost the art of writing letters what next? Communication has to be immediate but I love writing letters and receiving them. I actually have consciously decided to write to certain people as I could not think of using email or text. Are we so desperate not to be associated with previous generations and so deny ourselves these skills? Are love letters to be delivered over SMS now?

I am still not sure how I am tying any of this together. The joy of waffling and no one reading I suppose means I am at liberty to do so.

I shall be proud to bake and will hand myself over willingly to the authorities but will offer them a little something first.