I’m my own best friend.

My wife is an awesome baker. (She is an awesome person too, but that is another topic.) What she does with baked goods is magic. She is an artist. Scones, Muffins, Lemon Squares, Biscotti, Cookies for any occasion – you name it. The skill, as near as I can tell, requires a delicate balance of following recipes and knowing when to add a pinch of this or a touch of that. It is part art and part science. Every detail gets tender loving care. I often hear her quietly having what sounds like a conversation in the kitchen. She might be on the phone, but frequently she’s just talking her way through another culinary creation.

“Bing, who are you talking to?” I might ask.

“Oh, I’m just talking to myself. I’m my own best friend, you know.”

It’s kind of a routine banter we have but it never gets old. We are both amused in that moment and generally move on with whatever we are doing in separate rooms. Pretty soon the smell of fresh baked product is filling the air. How great is that?

My wife is on to something I think. Whatever you do and whatever you set your mind to, it pays to be your own best friend. If you follow that simple rule, soon you might just fill the room with something fresh that will make those around you smile.

 

I love you Bing.