Mum's The Word

Ever received some serious heat from you mother?

I don't mean that in a rank way you twisted fucks, I mean those times when you find yourself in a predicament when you can't do a single thing right without her removing an enormous can of whoopass from the cupboard, opening it, microwaving that shit and serving it up on a pre heated plate atop some lightly toasted crostini, all in one movement.

Well thank me later because i have the key to the secret.

Locate an important, but not absolutely vital item of your mother's daily inventory. Take for instance a glasses case. And before leaving the house in the morning, surreptitiously pluck and reposition the object pretty fucking far away from those areas your mother's track record suggests she tends to leave her stuff. Give her a morning to stew on the whereabouts, and at the moment where hope is beginning to fade send a perfectly timed text recalling you possibly having seen it, you could be imagining this of course, very near the exact spot where it was expertly placed before your exodus.

Kick back and wait... bingo.

Now you move in for the kill and mention an old Sicilian sausage pasta recipe you're especially fond of, the ingredients of which just so happen to be staring back at you across the counter of a high class Italian delicatessen in Soho. And despite having cooked for your parents about once in the past decade, insist that the new series of Masterchef has got you all inspired and you feel the need to work some magic in the kitchen that evening.

The rest is history.

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