Friday, December 18, 2015

A Trifle Story

At all family gatherings everyone pitches in to bring a bit of this or a bit of that, we generally confer together so there aren’t doubles or triples of anything & the host sets the general menu for the day. Thus was the case for our lovely gathering earlier this month with family. As we won’t all be together later this month for the holidays we thought we’d turn it into a bit of a feast in which we could celebrate the love for our Saviour as well as each other.. 

So the traditional holiday deserts were present: Christmas Pudding, Sticky Date Pudding, Allergy Safe Ice Cream, & trifle. Trifle is always a big deal in our home. Maybe because I don’t make it often enough. In fact, I’ve never made it & thus when Mr S’ sister asks what she can bring along to any gathering he always declares, with great certainty, “Oh trifle for sure.” He doesn’t often expect it to appear, but when it does such a fuss is made!

Needless to say when the trifle arrived Mr S & his brother-in-law, Mr C, made a huge fuss & bother over it. Each stating it was their’s to only be eaten by them, then agreeing how much of a portion they’d share with the other before finally conceding it must, at once, go in the fridge lest the whole thing melt or worse, get dropped.

And so the trifle remained in the fridge for quite some time. We went about our normal nightly routine of washing dishes, clearing away Friday evening books & Cricket supplies, before taking the dog out for a rather late, but enjoyable, walk. We chatted about many insignificant things on our walk, & enjoyed many laughs with Mr & Mrs C while the children stayed home & entertained Nana & Cousin C.

We came home to laughter & craziness. A guinea pig atop one of the coveted Union Jack pillows in her element watching all that was going on; hoping, secretly, that someone might sneak her a bit of vegetable aside from the slightly wilted & wimpy carrot stuffed near hear nose. While I iced my knee & our Jayde had a grand wrestle with Mr C {a family tradition for sure} the rest of us discussed grammar & punctation until I freaked everyone out by mentioning things like predicates. In which everyone else agreed they just stuck semi-colons in at random to be sure to please English Teachers. Teachers discussed the foolishness of so much emphasis on grammar being taught vs real life writing skills which students desperately lack.. And before long someone noticed the time & decided we should all retire for the evening.

Plans were made for who was going for morning runs vs morning walks. How to escape the driveway of cars if one needed & other such silliness when Mr S remembered the trifle in the fridge. He quickly suggested he & Mr C have an evening snack to which the wives all said, “No, it’s for tomorrow!”

There was a fair amount of grumping & slumping as people took turns circulating between the bathrooms to brush teeth, & when Mr C finally had his chance Mr S pulled out the trifle & declared, rather loudly down the lengthy hallway, “I’ve decided now is the perfect time to have a little bedtime snack..” Mr C came dashing up the hallway to be sure he got his own fair share before I chastised Mr S & encouraged him to put the crazy trifle away before it was all lost.

It should come as no surprise, then, that when people had all closed their doors & goodnights were shouted through the home that I embarked on the Great Trifle Prank. I quickly found a bowl that was similar in size & style to the one the trifle was in & I quickly gave it a coat of cream & stuck a dirty spoon in, of great size no less, for good measure. Then I tucked it on the top shelf of the fridge in view of everyone before removing the real trifle & hiding it behind the salads. Mr S watched, I needed a look-out after all, & had himself a grand laugh over the entire ordeal.

The next morning people went about their morning walks & runs before returning to the house sweaty & ready for breakfast. Breakfast is never elaborate in our home, & generally has a more fix it yourself or wait until the smoothie is made affair about it. Nana was happy chatting away to Mr C in the kitchen while others took turns cleaning up from their sweaty excursions. I took advantage of the moment & set about getting the morning smoothie made.

When I opened the fridge I stared in disbelief at a seemingly empty trifle bowl before turning around & saying, “Wow C you must have been so incredibly hungry last night then?”

Mr C, a little confused, turned & said, “No, I was fine, why?”
I pulled the door to the fridge open further & said, “It’s just that someone’s gone & eaten all that trifle & I figured it must have been you as Mr S was made to put it back & dragged out on the morning walk.”

Mr C dashed over to inspect the bowl & stood there for a moment, hands on hips staring at the bowl before the fridge door attempted to squeeze him the fridge. And thus began the great trifle debate of 2015. Who had eaten the trifle? Why? Surely no one had eaten the whole thing themselves & was still capable of moving? Hadn’t everyone gone for a walk or run? Except Nana.. But Nana despises trifle & she’d never truely touch it to be honest.

Thus Nana deduced that I must have had something to do with it. Until I reminded her trifle has both gluten & dairy in it thus I don’t eat it either. Nana’s deducting skills next landed on Mr S until I point out he was in the shower; next they fell to Mrs C. She too was in the shower, but somehow Nana was certain she was devouring trifle in there. Mr C & I both sputtered before bursting out in laughter at the idea.

Blame came round to me again in which Nana figured I’d moved the trifle to 100’s of little bowls to serve up later. It was an interesting though, but I don’t own 100’s of little bowls & further I have no fridge space for such things. Oh how the mystery seemed to deepen & before I fell into a fit of laughter at the accusations flying around the kitchen I flicked on my, rather noisy, blender.

Mr C, now in full alarm that he may have possibly missed out on the trifle, but certain that it couldn’t possibly be true, dashed off to bring back Mrs C to help solve the mystery. She opened the fridge, took one look at the empty bowl & said, “That’s not my bowl, Darling.” Well, that’s one mystery solved isn’t it then? No one was likely to have left a filthy empty trifle bowl in the fridge, but where was that real trifle after all?

A little digging amongst the leafy greens turned it up completely safe & unharmed. Mr S walked in at just that moment to hear, “Oh, THERE’s the trifle!” Thus he burst into laughter & said, “Drat now I can’t blame you for getting a bigger share then I did!” 

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