The best things about being unemployed and living back at home...

Some might cite lengthy lie-ins. Others might enjoy bumping into school bullies who were once deemed attractive but have now ballooned into prematurely-ageing messes who sit at the bus-stop outside Wilkinsons with their screaming progeny. I, however, would cite Bon Maman crème caramels.

My lovely mother is a proper “mummy” mummy who enjoys nothing more than feeding people up. Aside from hearty home-made grub such as lasagne, moussaka, and fresh mint lamb burgers, she also supplies a bounteous stock of snackles and treaties. The latter delights are left under my custodianship as Mum is usually on some kind of a diet.  Her diets are a bit of a joke a) because she doesn’t need to be on one, and b) because they rarely last.

‘I’ll just have a tiny sliver’ she’ll say, cutting herself a minute portion of millionaire slice, that’s barely worth the effort, before putting it back in its container for the next day. She’ll then creep back to the container an hour later, and every subsequent hour, until the whole thing is gone – I don’t know why she doesn’t just eat the whole thing in the first place instead of going through this ludicrous charade. 

The only other bother with Mum’s supply of treats is that they aren’t particularly varied. Once she’s cottoned on to a product, you know you’ll be having it every single night for the next three months. At the moment it’s these Bon Maman crème caramels. They’re an up-market version of the dessert that every fridge contained in the 90s – you know the ones, with the little flap on the bottom so that you could tip them upside-down on a plate, and pour the caramel over. My brother in law calls them “Pikey Puds,” but I personally take umbrage to this pejorative label. Sure, the Bon Maman offerings are infinitely creamier and tastier, but I challenge him to look me in the eye and say he doesn’t miss the sense of well-being, and showmanship that came with the erstwhile confections.

Anyway, next time I come up with a good aspect of living at home, I will be sure to update you. No doubt it will revolve around another snack that I was too impoverished to buy when I was a student (actually, I was pretty decadent when I was a student and was frequently mocked for tucking into salmon when everyone else was eating pot-noodle). They were clearly jealous that while they were getting illicit sex, I was getting my omegas, so yah-boo sucks to them!