Wordy Wednesday #97: I Say, Olde Chap

My contribution to multicultural day at school last week was treacle pudding. The ever lovely Janet mistook my tweet about it seriously and thought I was actually making it. Like from scratch, yeah? Like hahahahaha. Ha. Ha.

No.

I took a tin that Pete had picked up in the British foods aisle somewhere. [I know, I know. Where's the damn British chocolate?! The hell with treacle pudding.]

I followed the directions, including putting the whole damn tin -- with wrapper peeled off -- into boiling water for something like seven hours 35 minutes.

I opened one end and upended it onto a plate.

Then I opened the other end so the blob delight would be expunged slither slide out.

Then I put it on the table with all the homemade and store bought goodies. Not surprisingly, Youngest ate a Danish cookie and left the rest of the tidbits on his plate.

To all of those locals who believe my boy goes to a lily-white school with a bunch of racist, elitist parents (such as moi), let me point out that his class of 20 includes first-generation or actual immigrants as follows:

3 full-on Indian
2 full-on Chinese
1 half-Filipino
2 half or full-on European

Oh, I'm sorry, what's that you say? Those immigrants don't count? They're the wrong kind? Just shut up and eat the treacle pudding.