This article was written for Annabel & Grace, which is now part of Rest Less.
The hubby and I went down to stay with ‘The Aunt who likes to Shop’ in Hampshire. I brought her a little house present of chocolates and shortbread. She received them whilst saying “Ghastly, horrid, disgusting chocolates.” I had never had that response before but I enjoy surprises!
I had noticed my hostess gifts were plonked on the side of a large armoire, out of harm’s way, until the last lunch, on Sunday. Her middle married son produced them and ate a few. “What on earth are you doing? Give them to me. They’re mine!” screeched The Aunt. Her son replied that she had told him to take them with him when he left but he thought he would taste a few now, during coffee. I was intrigued. First she says “they’re ghastly,” then “take them away,” now “give them back.” The hubby looked fascinated too.
The aunt ate a few from each box. Chocolate-covered ginger, almond-covered truffles with gooey chocolate inside and the lemon shortbread was tried too – more than once. The Aunt offered some to the hubby, who took them whilst tossing me a challenging look that said “Hah! Look at me. Eating chocolates. I might even have more! See?” My answer to this insubordination was to blow my cheeks out as far as they would go.
After the aunt had finished her feverish search for the remaining few truffles hiding in their tissue, I said “What on earth is wrong with you? Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” She could barely talk her mouth was so full, but I think she responded with “Why did you give them to me? You know I’m a chocoholic!” She did have a slightly manic look in her eyes. “Well, I didn’t actually but I can see that you may have a real problem now!” I shot back.
The hubby wasn’t sure if he was a chocoholic too but he was enjoying keeping The Aunt company in this binge. There aren’t many opportunities to indulge in a chocolate orgy in his normal life and he wasn’t missing out on this one. I glared at him to stop. He had to finish anyway as the aunt was tipping the boxes upside down and shaking them to see if any last, lurking sweet had got stuck behind.
She lunged for the rest of the shortbread in its tin. “Do you have a similar addiction with shortbread?” She temporarily halted, with her whole arm in the tin of biscuits. “I only have had one or two.” “Really?” I looked at the aunt in disbelief and she started crying with laughter.
The hubby recognised that even he was feeling a bit full and slightly sick, considering the speed and brutality of ripping through quite so many truffles, chocolate-covered ginger and lemon shortbread in such a wild, feral manner. He most likely was weighing up if the feeding frenzy had been worth it. On balance, I think he was pleased that he had helped contribute to the distribution of chocolates, saving my aunt from an even worse sugar induced coma.
And me? I learnt a very valuable lesson to never, ever give ‘The Aunt who loves to Shop’ another chocolate in my entire lifetime. The Aunt learnt nothing except that my hubby will join her in any random anarchy (specifically against his wife’s wishes), especially when it involves food.
You can enjoy more spontaneous stories from Miranda here