Well, I'm not completely sure how I managed it, but I do seem to have made it to this very mature stage of my life without ever needing my very own personal kitchen blowtorch.
How on earth did I do it, I hear you ask?
It's a tough one.
I suppose the first thing is, up until now, when I burnt stuff in the kitchen, I did it by accident.
You know the drill, you try to run someone to ballet while you have a pot on the stove, taking the chance and hoping you'll get away with it, then you don't.
Secondly, I think the hours of my life I've frittered away watching cooking shows on television have finally come home to roost; the images I've absorbed influencing me to believe that deliberately burning stuff in the kitchen could be a good thing.
When I asked Katianna to choose a cake for her birthday celebration last week, there opened a window of opportunity that I was happy to step through - actually if it was a window that I stepped through, maybe it was more like a French door?
The cake Katianna chose was the - destined to be a classic - chocolate-vanilla brulee cheesecake.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this is a cake that has a base which is first chilled, a filling which is baked, before the whole cake is slowly cooled, then refrigerated for three hours, and finally, sugar is sprinkled on top and a blowtorch is turned on it.
Obviously, her choice fuelled my passion for a challenge and I immediately strapped on my apron ready for action.
Of course I did take a moment to pop down to the shops for a quick purchase and tutorial on the humble kitchen blowtorch, but then I was definitely in business.
The girls all wisely took a step back when the naked flame eventually appeared hovering above a perfectly-lovely looking cake on the island bench, and there was at least one daughter filming the occasion in case it was the last time I had a full head of hair.
It's okay, nobody got hurt.
We definitely didn't need candles on the cake though, we all just blew at once when the top of the biscuit base caught on fire.