Tell all Your Friends, They can go my way..

It's funny how somethings stick in your mind for ever...

When I was about 8, I went to a party at my friend's house. It was her 9th Birthday. She was a new girl, and was a bit German, and lived with her Gran and Granpa which intrigued me no end.

We played all the usual games. Pass the parcel, hide and seek (my very fav... even with hide and seek incontinence), and then she wanted to play "Forfeits".

One girl had to sing a song. Another had to run down the road and knock a neighbour's door and ask for a cup of sugar. Someone else got to do a handstand.

If I had any of those things, I would have been delighted. What did I get?

I had to make "Granmere" a slice of bread and jam. What? Where the hell did that come from? Was Granmere hungry? No I doubt it very much. Did she really want a sweaty little eight year old pawing a slice of plain bread with her butter and jam? Did she hell as like.

Not only did I have to go and make her this "piece", it was to be witnessed by everyone. I barely had room to move my arms as everyone shoved for a view at the table.

The butter was as hard as rock.

The bread was soft with no crust. As soon as I put my knife against it, with the first scraping of butter, it ripped. And again. And again.

Eventually as I tried to stick the pieces of torn bread together with lumps of butter, and disguise the mess with jam. Granmere stopped the fun and said that I had done enough to have passed the forfeit.

I was mortified. So shamed that I was unable to butter a slice of bread and butter competently.

So now, it's "Spreadable" all the way.