Hey y’all, turns out 32 is the magic number: the age that I go senile!
I have always been a scatter-brain but somehow my friends all have the impression that I am this super-in-control person that has everything planned out. Well, my absent-mindedness went into overdrive yesterday at round 3 of the birthday celebration, and a few of my friends got a glimpse of the slippery road to senility that I am sliding down to, fast. (I know I’m really milking the B-day thing this year, but it just so happens that Anna and Hsin-li’s daughter both have birthdays within a week from mine, and Hsin-li herself turned 30 last month while she was back home in Singapore. So we decided to do a joint birthday tea party.)
It started the day before the party actually, when I was making mini lemon tarts and forgot to butter the tart pans. This is me we are talking about, a seasoned tart-maker who can make a tart base with my eyes closed. Yet, I made a blooper so big that resulted in us eating tarts right out of the pans with plastic spoons.
The climax was on the day of the party itself. After settling in comfortably in Hsin-li’s living room and talking with the girls, I all of sudden realized that after grabbing the bags of food and gifts, I had left all of the tarts on my kitchen counter. Good thing her house is so close to mine, so I jumped into my car and headed back home. I only noticed that I didn’t have my house key with me after I was in my own garage. I thought I had left the key on Hsin-li’s coffee table when in fact I had dropped it into the bag of food I brought. So I drove back to her place again to get the key. Then it was back at my place again, when I realized that I had also forgotten to bring baking sheets which Rachel had asked to borrow.
You would think that two trips back home and I’d have everything, but nope, I still managed to forget about the pastry bags and star-shaped pastry tip. I improvise with kitchen bags and parchment paper, and ended up with tarts that look like this, instead of this.
And I am still not done yet. Came present time, I was one bag short. When I went to check my car, there it was, a lone paper bag in my empty trunk. How could I have missed it unless Alzheimer’s kicked in?
The final touch? When I left Hsin-li’s place, I forgot to take my hand-held mixer, which I needed to use today, along with my present.
My friends tried to comfort me by saying that I was just having a really bad day, but if this is what I’m like now, can you imagine what happens when I turn 40?