Recalling a youthful misdemeanour...

A picture on my pal Eric's blog has prompted me to recall long suppressed memories of an incident in my youth.

I'm thinking that ten years is enough time for human Granny to overcome her sense of humour failure, and so she won't get too upset if I tell you all about it. (I do love human Granny, so I'd hate to upset her). Sadly, no photos of the incident exist, so I shall have to paint the picture in words. 

First some background. 

I was a mere four years old then, I'd only been with Gail for three months, and it was my first ever Christmas trip down to Nottingham. Unsettled by all the changes, I hadn't been eating well. 

Oh, and I think that to appreciate the story, you must know that human Granny has some very traditional ideas, especially when it comes to having people round for meals. 

On Boxing day, she announces that she's invited the new next-door neighbours for afternoon tea. (Yes really, American readers, proper afternoon tea!). Very respectable neighbours these, one Dr Banjee and family - wife, two young children  and mother-in-law. That's  DOCTOR Banjee, a real doctor that can cure sick people, not a pretend one like Gail....

Human Granny makes some scones. Very proud of them she is too, explaining to Gail that she'd followed Delia's recipe to the last word, and they were the best scones she's baked for, well, ages. 

It is decided that it will be a sit-down-at-the-table tea. Preparations start early afternoon. Raspberry jam and cream are spread on the scones, and they are placed on a fancy plate. A lace tablecloth is laid on the dining table.

Not just any old lace tablecloth, but the precious Nottingham lace tablecloth given to human Grandparents in 1956  as a wedding present from their friends whose family owned a lace factory.  Human Granny puts the plate of scones on the table and goes away to get smartened up.

Gail and human Grandad are relaxing in the sitting room. Gail is absorbed in a book. She does vaguely register the fact that she can hear me eating and thinks, 'oh good, finally he's feeling better'.  Then after a bit, she thinks, hmmm, that is a very loud eating sound, if Hamish were in the kitchen , where his food bowl is kept, I would not be able to hear him so clearly....

Suddenly, she leaps to her feet and bursts into the dining room! 

What does she see? Well there I am stood on the table, a scene of destruction all around. The few remaining scones are scattered about the room in small pieces, and my face is smeared with what jam and cream have not been trodden into the Nottingham lace tablecloth. 

My head is tilted to one side in my best 'oh but did I do something wrong' look. Gail's face is strangely contorted into an expression that I suspect was the result of trying simultaneously to convey anger and suppress laughter. 

Well I can assure you that human Granny was cross! 

I only wish I could have told her that they were indeed very delicious scones...