Baking. I’ve started to loathe it. This wasn’t what I expected. I use my arm to rub my nose.
“You’ve got flour on your nose, Joy.”
Duh. “I’ve got flour everywhere, Steve.” I rub my arm across my sweaty brow. “I’m baking here.”
“Well, whose idea was it to do a cooking class at a nudist camp in the Carribean?”
Inspired by: http://thegreatbritishbakeoff.co.uk/