daily bread

my boy was delegated to make the bread yesterday. the peeps have a fabulous machine which chomps away at the ingredients and produces wonderful fresh bread every day, at a considerably lower cost than buying it, which is of course very good for the economy drive. my boy is a good breadmaker. yesterday he was carefully tipping the yeast, then the flour, into the machine.

"oh crap!" he said. himself went pale. "you'd better come here." he called to herself. "now!"

herself wandered into the kitchen. "what is it?" himself pointed a shaking finger at the bucket that the bread is cooked in. it was on the draining board. "so?" said herself, "what about it?"

it appeared that my boy had merrily been tipping the ingredients into the bit where the electric element is, in spite of the bucket still being on the draining board.

"is that all?" said herself, "i've done that twice myself!" as oscar wilde might have said, twice seems careless. herself dispatched my boy to fetch the hoover and a magazine. a funnel was fashioned out of the magazine, down which the flour was tipped into the bucket. herself then hoovered out the rest to prevent the smoke alarm getting an outing.

himself watched amazed, before fetching the camera...