Friend or Foe?

What’s a wooden spoon to you?

Is it the one that helped you learn to stir that triple choc muffin mix with your Nanna when you were five, just so you could dance on the spot with glee as you licked the delicious spoon at the end with enough mixture coating it to make another muffin?

Or was it the spoon that slept silently above the air conditioner, only rousing from its slumber at the mention of the naughty corner?

Or was it when you spent the whole day cooking with your Nona, learning her family traditions and techniques just so you’d be ready with a repertoire for a family of your own some day?

Or was it just because you liked the feel of a well worn wooden spoon in your hand as you swirled the sweet mixture of your cake in the bowl, watching it ooze from the spoon as you poured the batter into your favourite cake tin?

And as you stood back and licked the spoon, you thought of your Mum long gone, her spoon in your hand. And you smiled.