It’s easy to be preachy when you’re merely an onlooker

No, I have not been in a debilitating accident. However, my mother was.

She fell over and smashed her wrist so spectacularly that it had to be knitted together with wires. Being very much my mother’s daughter, my first thought on receiving the news was that I must fly to her side immediately so that I could apply her makeup, because we Ridyard women are firm believers in presenting our best face to the world, and this was a Grade One Eyeliner Catastrophe.

Her left hand is almost purely decorative, just like mine. In fact, should I ever be rendered armless, I have made a friend promise to do my makeup.

Forget writing, showering, cooking or driving: robbed of the use of her right hand, how could anything else matter if you have to wear a paper bag over your head?

However, distance meant I was simply a cheerleader. So I explained helpfully to the old dear that, forced into left-handedness, she would be firing on all synapses throughout her recovery, and would emerge newly brilliant.

I informed her that neural experts believe we should try to use our non-dominant hand for smalls tasks – non-dangerous ones – like brushing teeth or eating marshmallows, because this builds new pathways in the brain, just as learning another language does.

She went hmmm. Later she messaged back: “Left-handed mascara not easy. Ended up in my ear.” Then there followed a lipstick-up-nostril incident.

So, in the spirit of solidarity, I decided to do everything left-handed today. I spent ten minutes peeling a boiled egg for breakfast. I failed at putting out the recycling. And as for cleaning up dog poo one-handed: do not try this at home.

Washing my hair was like drowning, drying myself meant staying damp, getting dressed entailed my bottom being thoroughly flossed by my knickers, and when it came to cosmetics, well, my lips and eyes have definitely migrated.

And now, possibly years later, I have typed this entire column left-handed. I guess it’s easy to be preachy when you’re merely an onlooker. I’m done. I couldn’t even last one day.