At the end of this week, we are attempting our first full-length holiday as a family of five. So, amidst all of the other exciting-but-anxiety-producing preparations for this, I have also been attempting to use up all of the leftover perishables lurking at the back of our fridge.

Come Tuesday morning, then, I found myself considering the merits of five courgettes, two scabby limes, and a half-used tub of full fat cream cheese; with a Mum’s group arriving in approximately three hours. Hmmm…. courgette and lime cake anyone?!

Now. I’ll be honest… it wasn’t all that nice.

I’d substituted both the flour and the sugar for other types we had available, and it had taken an age to bake. But, you know. It was cake. The kids enjoyed making it, it washed down well with tea and the other Mums were ever-so-slightly over-enthusiastic in their feedback. (I don’t believe you, but, hey… thanks and you’re welcome!)

Unfortunately, however, there was one poor lady sat with a slice on her knee, picking at it so painstakingly slowly and awkwardly that I began to feel sorry for her. She doesn’t like it, but she doesn’t know what to do! The longer we sat, the more awkward she looked and the more I wanted to bin it for her! So, keen to put an end to her embarrassment, I got up, collected all the plates in with a joke about the washing up, and took hers too; confessing that I didn’t really like it all that much either.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, visibly relieved, “courgettes just freak me out!”

Interesting.

With the cake consumed or refused, the conversation resumed and nobody thought any more about it. Until the next day, that is, when Ms Courgette approached me at a Church Plant bring and share…

“I felt so bad about not eating your cake yesterday,” she said again, “In fact… I had a nightmare about it!”

“No! Are you serious?!”

“Yes! I dreamt the next time I came to yours, I walked there, promising myself all the way that I would eat whatever you had prepared because I was so rude last time. But then, when I arrived, you presented us with this giant Brussel Sprout and Spring Onion cake! I was so upset that I needed to eat it, but didn’t want to, that I started crying until I was sick!”

Wow.

There you have it folks.

I have officially baked myself into a parishioner’s nightmares.

Surely there’s a Vicar’s Wife badge for that?!