I am 34 and have baked a banana bread for the first time in my life

On its own, I score medium on the civility ladder. I open my mail, have a house I own, and do weekly grocery shopping (to the great horror of Kiek and Lil). But one thing I have managed to skillfully avoid until now: baking.

In the past, I knew exactly when my grandma was baking cookies. I would enter the kitchen precisely on the minute, so I could scrape out the mixing bowl. Sometimes my brother was already there, which was annoying. I never got closer to sweetness baking than this. Well, maybe I once timidly stirred in a mixing bowl for someone else, but that was it. Until this week. I baked a banana bread for the first time in my life.

I don't understand why people make baking banana bread seem so easy. Like: I'll just do it in between. My kitchen was one big battlefield. Everywhere spelt flour, everywhere light brown sugar, everything stuck because of the spoons of Zeeland syrup that had to go through the mixture, and I was exhausted by the time I shoved the mess into the Airfryer. And I only wanted to reward myself with a big bag of chips on the couch. I didn't have any at home, so I had to wait for the banana bread.

It actually went wrong with the sugar that I had to beat lightly into the butter. The stuff was not light to look at, let alone to beat. With a lot of doubt, I tossed in the egg, which suddenly made it light? Then the flour had to be sifted into the mixture, and that's where everything went wrong. You wonder how people can get flour everywhere. I get it. I stirred with my right hand, sifted with my left, and mostly did this next to the mixing bowl. I casually threw in too much flour again, and well, never mind.

The only favorable part of the story was that baking it was a piece of cake, and my creation was approved by several connoisseurs. Which is good, because it was the first and last time. From now on, I will just dedicate my life to cooking savory dishes, which makes everyone happier.