Todays post also contains a hilarious story written by Em or Mom Hatter as she’s known on Twitter about the time she caused a Christmas tree fire. The other 2 stories are about my brother and I, please note no children were harmed in the process of these stories. Can’t say the same for the trees however…
The Frozen Feast
Once upon a time there were two children, a boy and a girl whose Mum had been out shopping for lots of yummy treats for the Christmas feast. They were just so excited they just didn’t know if they could wait the agonising few days before they got their grubby little mitts on all that wonderousness.
So they didn’t wait. They decided the best course of action was to take matters into their own hands and rustle up the biggest, bestest feast the world had ever seen. At 5am. Obviously. Only their little legs weren’t long enough to reach into the freezer of frozen fun so they needed a hand. Dining room chair, that would do it they thought. In it was dragged and up they hopped. Cocktail sausages, sausage rolls, Viennetta, black forest gateaux, it all came out and got bundled into the oven. Together. Being 5 and 6 they had not one clue how to cook so they just turned some knobs and hoped for the best.
“Mummy will be so happy when she wakes up and sees what we’ve made her for breakfast” they chattered excitedly. “I hope she’s hungry!” they said as they chucked a tub of Neopolitan Icecream under the grill.
Suddenly they heard hurrried footsteps coming down the stairs, they waited with baited breath for her to find them and see what they’d done for her. Then, the door flew open and in walked Mum eyes wide, mouth agog taking in the scene unfolding in front of her.
“Those little shits!” she thought.
The Christmas Tree Fire
Once upon a time, a young girl thought it would be fun to show her brother and her friend how pretty fire is. She knew her mother wouldn’t approve, so decided to use the safety of the Christmas tree farm next door for such clandestine activities. The girl’s intent was to simply set alight a few blades of grass and then extinguish them. However, being young, she did not take into account the recent dry spell nor her proximity to a mini forest of highly flammable trees. Things escalated rather quickly.
The fire department came to the rescue and no one was hurt. They, the neighbor and the mother were all quite cross with the girl. As punishment, the girl was forced to clean up trash in the neighbor’s roadside ditch. The neighbor also had two cute sons. The sons mocked the girl ever after. Especially on the school bus. In spite of this, the girl maintained her love of fire and lives with the stain of her iniquity while secretly remembering how beautiful it was.
The End 🔥
Sweet, Sweet Gravy
Once upon a time there was a Dad, a Dad who wanted to prove to his wife he was a brilliant cook. Better than Keith Floyd. He decided he would make a roast dinner for him and the kids. It would be splendiferous beyond their wildest dreams. Off the kids went upstairs to play with He-Man and Sindy respectively and a flurry of activity occured in the kitchen accompanied by the sound of Freddie Mercury belting out his best. Spuds were peeled and carrots julienned, well butchered into sticky style things anyway.
There was a roast chicken that smelled as delicious as a chicken should and green veg galore guaranteed to make the place whiff like a cow’s bumhole later that day. When all the food was cooking well he moved onto preparing the gravy. He’d do it properly he thought. None of that stick to the roof of your mouth pre made stuff. Luckily Mum had jars and jars of lots of things in the kitchen so he grabbed the tub of flour and the gravy browning and set to work.
Finally, with the sound of kiddies rumbly tummies reverberating around the room the dinner was plated up, proud as punch he surveyed his handiwork as he poured gravy onto each with a flourish. Hungry, the kids tucked in greedily, until their expressions changed. Chewing slowly they couldn’t quite work out why it tasted so odd for a moment. The gravy, why was it so sweet? Dad too realised this wasn’t right and spat out his mouthful before getting up to check what an earth was wrong with the gravy browning. He checked the bottle, sniffed it, all seemed fine. Then he checked the flour. It looked ok. Just a jar of white stuff. Only as he turned it, he saw it had a label stuck to the back. Declaring:
“Oh bollocks!” he thought.