Growing up, the sound of the primary school home time bell was pure music to my little ears, especially on a Friday afternoon. Although I never won any track and field events at our school sports day, or came anywhere even remotely close, I was by far the quickest kid out of my chair, through the classroom door and to the port rack to collect my bag each and every Friday afternoon. The race continued as I quickly scrambled to the school front gate, with my eyes peeled until I spotted my forever dawdling little brother and sister. My speedy mission continued all the way to the car where mum would be patiently waiting for us. You see, the thought of a Friday afternoon thrilled me, not only because of the looming weekend involving endless hours of reading my favourite book series, ‘The Babysitters Club’ (I know, how sad but don’t worry my sister teased me incessantly) and netball games, but my parents had each and every Friday at home, no work...which guaranteed this greedy little girl the most extra special, wonderful, amazing dinner AND dessert I knew of. To me, arriving home each Friday afternoon was filled with so much anticipation, what had Dad been cooking all day? Was it his mouth watering lasagne, creamy chicken curry, special roast chicken and gravy AND more importantly what amazing dessert had he quipped up for us?
