Pie and Prejudice

You know you’re an adult when your friends rely on you for help.

But you know you’re truly an adult when you wonder what superhero power you’ll need to pull out the bag to save the day.

Like the time my friend dropped her car keys down a muddy drain near my house on a Saturday evening. Cue me running down the road, three wines deep, dressed to the nines, holding a big stick.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank the kind pensioner who momentarily left his retirement home to help us, with wipes and gloves (and also a big stick), before admitting he’d spent a good while chuckling at us before coming to our aid.

I would not like to thank the multiple drivers who sped past us. I won’t name names (Audi’s) but you know who you are.

My latest rescue mission was less messy but equally entertaining.

Me: *opens WhatsApp group chat*
Friend: *types frantically*

'Guys, I've accidentally bought a massive pie. I can't eat it all. You have to come over this week to help me eat it'

*dramatic pause*

Us: 'Yes! We'll be there! What time do you need us? Shall we bring potatoes?'

It was at this point, I realised I have chosen my friendship group wisely.

Do my friends ask me to spend silly money on hen-do’s then humiliate me on their big day by shoving me in an unflattering dress in front of a photographer before calling the groom their ‘best friend’ (then admit years later that if they didn’t spend all their money on flower arrangements and table decorations they could probably afford a divorce)? No.

Do my friends invite me to baby showers then quiz me endlessly about when I’ll have children, why I don’t have children and if my existence of spending Saturdays snacking, napping, singing songs and writing is pointless given that I could be spending it running around after my children? No.

Do my friends invite me round for tea because they accidentally bought a pie so big they can’t eat it all themselves? YES!

Obviously I did what any supportive friend would do when their bestie is in a spot of bother and I helped, heroically, to eat that pie.

(Felt so good to do a good deed – you really should try it sometime).

As we sat around the dinner table on that cold Autumnal evening eating pie, drinking tea (because after all we’re sensible adults and this was a work night), putting the world to rights like protagonists in a Jane Austen novel, we knew that this is the life.

In a world where technology threatens our humanity and our world leaders plummet us into a dead-end future, this was a wholesome reminder of what truly matters – being in the protective and comforting company of those you love.

And breathe.

Then we all went home and doom-scrolled social media for hours. The end.