Firstly, I must inform you that I have had a cold. Yes, despite all my dodging, weaving and trowelling on of the hand gel, I was devastated when that all too familiar achiness and shakiness slithered over me like the unwanted affections of a greasy barman. Bleugh! Anyway, I have spent the past week downing cold-busting beverages and blowing my very blocked nose. It was during this period that I was required to have two of my daughter’s school friends home for tea. It had been arranged for a good while, me being the last mum of the three to commit. Not great timing but I couldn’t back out now, especially after cancelling at the last minute three weeks ago when we took a late delivery of some children’s truckle beds, which I had to quickly beautify for the showroom. I am so good at this now, I’d give any old chambermaid a run for her money… Anyway, after hearing all about the fish pies and curried vegetable patties made by the fair hands of my fellow mothers I decided I was not going to be outdone. I need something easy and impressive. Homemade burgers and tasty vegetable chips! Now there’s a killer combination which ticks all the boxes. My terrible cold had confined me to the house for most of the week, with the exception of a quick trip to the showroom during which I decided to “test” the cosiness of the children’s four poster beds (they passed, they always do!) – and a trolley dash in the mini supermarket where I stocked up for the big tea party.
So the day arrived. We all piled into the house and the girls disappeared upstairs, emerging ten minutes later wearing an array of outlandish outfits, cobbled together from my deceased grandmother’s wardrobe and the pound shop. “Who cares”, I thought, as my head throbbed and my nose ran away with itself. “I’ll just get the chips in the oven and the burgers going and I’ll be watching neighbours under the slanket in a jiffy”. Well that would have occurred had the oven been working. It was goosed. Totalled. Dead. Ok I can deal with this…Cue a frantic emptying of cupboards to find something, anything, remotely edible – and microwavable. The result was super noodles and hot dogs. “What about our special chips?” was the cry when I announced the change of menu. I was surrounded by tear-brimmed eyes. With the other mums’ healthy cooking credentials in mind, I momentarily toyed with juicing all the furry apples in the fruitbowl. Instead I plumped for, “get in the car”. Off we popped to the chippy, dead Grandma’s clothes and all. They were delighted with the whole escapade and guzzled their meals with relish. Vegetable patties eat your heart out, you can’t beat a chippy tea!