Couldn't rise to the occasion

It’s been exactly a month since mom started working and disrupted not one, not two, but four innocent lives. Starting with the youngest member of this household, to the wisest one – moi – our smooth lives have been dramatically altered because the woman feels she can do more in life than cook and pick up after everybody. (Since when is housework not fulfilling enough?)

To mark her one-month work anniversary, mom lunched at a nearby Indonesian restaurant, topping it off with a slice of cake at the Better than Sex Cake Café. Mom’s been intrigued by the name for a while, but could never take her family there, because, how on earth do you explain sex to a seven-year-old?

Anu: “What does ‘sex’ mean?
Mom: “Ask Appa.”
Dad: “Ask Amma.”

At this rate, the poor child might grow up associating sex with cake. Imagine if, at the next birthday party, once the samosas and sandwiches have been consumed, Anu loudly asks, “Is it time for sex, yet?”

Anyway, mom brought some cake home for the kids to share and Kuki helpfully dropped it on the floor, so, for a change, I had my cake and ate it too.

I bet you want to know if the gâteau really lives up to its name. All I can say is, I don’t know who the owner is having sex with, but I’ve definitely had better ... cake, I mean.

In this case, I have to say, abstinence is better than s-excess.