At least the day ended with cupcakes

Yesterday I had the distinct pleasure of interviewing a local author who recently had her second book published and wanted a little publicity for her upcoming book signing. We chatted about plot, inspiration and how she became a writer and then I just had to ask,

"And how old are you?"

"I'm nine!" she beamed up at me.

It took everything in me not to drop my pen and curl up under my desk in defeat as a strangled, "Annnd I'm 24" made its way past my lips.

"What?"

"Cough, Aaah, so you were saying you're mostly focused on fiction at this point in your career?"

Nothing like an overachieving nine-year-old to throw your life's work sharply into hi-def.

Her book was about a girl who is obsessed with pink and has to be put on a colour diet.

I came home, put on a pink t-shirt and baked myself some pink (ok, technically red velvet-yum!)cupcakes in protest.

Take that, adorably precocious, single digit aged kid. You may be a successfully published author, but I can use an oven without proper adult supervision!

Win.