Every year old Mrs Hartney makes shortbread for mum. She's been doing this for years, it's a Christmas tradition. She brings it around in a tin. (Mum looked after her children during the school holidays in the late '60s as Mrs H. had to work - our backyard was always full of kids, us and other peoples' - and Mrs H. has remained eternally grateful.)
So Mrs H. rocks up with the shortbread, only to find mum not home. She doesn't leave it on the doorstep or near the back door or under the potplant, she takes it to a neighbour, Mrs Snaith, who lives two doors away. Mrs Snaith is also not at home, but Mr Snaith is.
So Mrs Hartney leaves the shortbread with Mr Snaith with strict instructions to look out for mum and drop it in when they can see she is at home. Only problem is, Mr Snaith has Alzheimer's Disease. Maybe Mrs H. doesn't notice. Maybe Mrs H. is heading that way as well.
Then, later that evening, Mrs H. rings mum and she's like, Did you get the shortbread?
And mum's like, No. Was I supposed to?
- Yes you were supposed to. I left it with Mrs S. but she wasn't home so I left it with Mr S.
Mum twigs.
- Just go down and they'll give it to you, trills old Mrs H.
Mum, of course, knows that Mr S. could have done anything with the shortbread - fed it to the dog, flushed it down the loo, placed it in the linen closet or on the garage roof or posted it to Africa, for that matter. Or simply eaten it. Or just left it right there on the kitchen table. At best, Mrs S. will simply think one of the neighbours has dropped in a welcome gift.
So there's no way mum is going to knock on Mrs Snaith's door, walk in and say, Hello and Merry Christmas and By the way, that delicious-looking shortbread on the table is mine!
Which raises another problem. Mum is the most punctilious of people and could not bear not to return Mrs Hartney's shortbread tin, as she does every year.
How and on what grounds does she retrieve it? (Presuming it hasn't been posted to Africa!)
So Mrs H. rocks up with the shortbread, only to find mum not home. She doesn't leave it on the doorstep or near the back door or under the potplant, she takes it to a neighbour, Mrs Snaith, who lives two doors away. Mrs Snaith is also not at home, but Mr Snaith is.
So Mrs Hartney leaves the shortbread with Mr Snaith with strict instructions to look out for mum and drop it in when they can see she is at home. Only problem is, Mr Snaith has Alzheimer's Disease. Maybe Mrs H. doesn't notice. Maybe Mrs H. is heading that way as well.
Then, later that evening, Mrs H. rings mum and she's like, Did you get the shortbread?
And mum's like, No. Was I supposed to?
- Yes you were supposed to. I left it with Mrs S. but she wasn't home so I left it with Mr S.
Mum twigs.
- Just go down and they'll give it to you, trills old Mrs H.
Mum, of course, knows that Mr S. could have done anything with the shortbread - fed it to the dog, flushed it down the loo, placed it in the linen closet or on the garage roof or posted it to Africa, for that matter. Or simply eaten it. Or just left it right there on the kitchen table. At best, Mrs S. will simply think one of the neighbours has dropped in a welcome gift.
So there's no way mum is going to knock on Mrs Snaith's door, walk in and say, Hello and Merry Christmas and By the way, that delicious-looking shortbread on the table is mine!
Which raises another problem. Mum is the most punctilious of people and could not bear not to return Mrs Hartney's shortbread tin, as she does every year.
How and on what grounds does she retrieve it? (Presuming it hasn't been posted to Africa!)
Oh dear, that is a dilemma. But here's how your mum can retrieve the tin: she pretends that she gave it to the Snaiths. She casually asks Mrs Snaith the next time she sees her if she enjoyed the shortbread. She then politely asks if maybe she could have the tin back. If Mrs Snaith thinks her request is odd, your mum explains that she did tell Mr Snaith that she wanted the tin back but she wasn't sure whether Mr Snaith understood.
ReplyDeleteI'm not sure if (sneaky) tactic will work, and it will mean your mum has to tell a white lie, but I can't think of any other way of getting the tin back!! Good luck
Thanks Kimbofo. A solution worthy of Dear Mary in the Spectator!
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