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What the elephant knows, and B does not know, or at least, does not consciously know, is that when B was six years old, his mother went back to work full time. B and his older brothers and sisters went to the after-school club, from which their mother picked them up at five thirty. They went home and had tea which, because their mother always felt a bit guilty about leaving them at the after-school club, was always a home-cooked meal.

In order to put a home-cooked meal on the table at six-thirty, B’s mother would cook five meals at the weekend and freeze them. She would then get one meal out every morning and leave it in the fridge to thaw, ready to pop in the oven in the evening. At least that was the theory. The trouble was that in the rush of trying to get three young children and herself out of the house on time, about twice a week she would forget to take supper out of the freezer.

The upshot of this was that on those days, she have to dash out to get something for the children’s tea from the corner shop. Since she didn’t want to waste money, having already bought and paid for the ingredients of one meal, albeit one which was still in the freezer, she would invariably buy tinned soup, either tomato or chicken, neither of which B liked very much.

More on Monday. I think we will have some haiku tomorrow.