Friday, 18 March 2016

Up all night...

Words from a Bird.  Day 78

As I stuck my head down the loo for the third time in an hour this morning, it suddenly all made sense.

As you'll remember from yesterday's blog, I was pondering as to how my dad and the husband manage to win at cards every week.  I had blamed the fact that I was usually half asleep, and also wondered whether the husband was checking out the reflection of my cards in the windows.  Well, there is now a third option.

On Wednesday night, my dad carried in a rather large and exciting looking box.  This is usually something he wants to foist on me, which he no longer wants to give house room to.  He says he doesn't like throwing anything away, so he does it by proxy, giving it to me, so that I can throw it away.  Obviously, I don't have as many scruples as he does.

So back to the box...

'What've you got there then?' I asked, expecting several paperbacks.  I have a Kindle, so books are no good to me any more (until the day that the font can be enlarged in a paperback, I'll stick to the 'larger than life itself fonts that the Kindle gives me).

Dad tipped the box out of the bag, realised it was upside down, turned it over, and opened the lid.  The most amazing baked creation sat inside the box, iced and decorated to a very professional level.  Unfortunately, the three chocolate roses which were meant to sit on the cake were stuck to the lid of the box, after their two minute headstand that they had performed.  Dad prised them off, squished them on top, with a 'There you are, good as new'. 

Well, I wouldn't have said that as it had a quarter missing.  'I ate that over the weekend', explained Dad.  'But as I am trying to lose a bit of weight I thought I'd bring it over to you'.  Wasn't too sure how to take that, but to avoid a breakdown in family relations, I assumed that it was meant for the males in the house who don't possess a thing called a 'weight problem'.

It transpired that the cake was a gift from dad's Polish cleaning lady.  She had got married, and brought it back from Poland as a thank you for my dad's gift to her and her husband.

If a cake was punishable this one would be sitting on the naughty step having been grounded for a week.  Here's how the layers went...chocolate, cream, cherries, chocolate, chocolate mousse, cherries, cream...all dowsed in a liberal  serving of Cherry Schnapps or Kirsch.  Well having worked my way through a slice (it wasn't easy I can tell you, I could feel my teeth dissolving with sugar erosion), I asked the $64,000 question. 

'When did she get married?'

'Just after Christmas....but don't worry about the cake, I kept it in the fridge'.

The lengths some people will go to...

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