Mr Kipling Saves The Day

 

Spotting that the neighbours at the Buteshack had strung Union Jack bunting across the front of the tenement in honour of the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee celebrations, the spouse was determined not to be outdone.

“We could hang something in the windows”, he said excitedly, looking around for inspiration.

“But we’re not even into the monarchy”, I said in protest, “and what are you going to make bunting out of? We don’t have any stuff with us.”

“Quit your moaning and have another Mr Kipling’s Special Edition Diamond Jubilee French Fancy”, insisted the spouse, offering the remaining gaudily coloured red white and blue cakes in their special Union Jack box.

“Don’t mind if I do”, I said greedily, as I watched the discarded red white and blue striped cupcake liners being expertly cut into quarters and folded over a length of thread. When the last cake was safely on its way to my steadily enlarging hips, and the last bit of paper cutting had been done, we stood back to admire the spouse’s handiwork.

“Well done, hun”, I said, noting the overall effect. “I approve. It’s very French.”

 

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