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Cake Tester is a real job, right?

I am home from Fancy London. Mr V has handed back the reins. While I was away he navigated a whole cherub dental appointment with no supervision, negotiated tv and laptop rights with cherub 2, bought enough takeaway pizza to feed 3 people for 2 days, collected his father of the year award and pronounced himself done. In the meantime I have dealt with a barrage of cherub related phone calls, emails and texts on crowded trains and in corners of other people’s offices. Apparently being in Fancy London is not an excuse when cherub 2 has very considerately put you down as his next of kin for everything and uses your email address for all his correspondence. Then blocks you on his phone so you can’t ask him why you are suddenly getting missives from eBay demanding payment for some bizarre item bought by a certain Mr Cherub 2, owner of a lovely new eBay account. Mr V says I’m not allowed to sell cherub 2 to another family. eBay also said this was against their terms and conditions.

“I’ve made an appointment with the careers advisor for cherub 2 for Friday,” I told Mr V, “and then I have to take him into town.”

“Oh I’m not sure I can come. I have many many important things to do,” said Mr V (hard on the heels of telling me that he’d binge-watched all 3 series of Mrs Maisel while I’d been away).

“It would be handy if you could come,” I told him.

Mr V listed all the important things he would have to do/rearrange to come. I still have no idea if he’s actually coming. As I had no way of contacting cherub 2 to tell him the plans, I have no idea if he’s coming either! There’s a distinct possibility that on Friday, somewhere in the North of England, a careers advisor will find himself trapped in a room with a 50 year old woman who is enthusiastically telling him that her dream job is ‘cake tester’ 😀🍰

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