As my mum Angela, then 44, scraped cake mix from the bowl, I flashed her pleading eyes.
‘Go on then,’ she said, handing me the wooden spoon to lick.
It was 2008 and, aged 5, I loved baking with Mum.
Coconut buns today.
‘My favourite,’ my dad Ian, then 47, said, pinching one as they cooled.
I sniggered as
