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When my daughter was little I used to sing her this little song:
'You can't butter up a butternut
You can't butter up a butternut
La la la la'
The one day hub brought home a particularly big butternut and I drew a face on it and some ears and my daughter fell in love with it and named it 'Baby Butternut' and wrapped it in a blanket and took it for walks in her pushchair and kissed it and put it to bed. Ah. Then she forgot about it and it rolled away down the back of something, somewhere in her bedroom.
One day - weeks later, craving his favourite vegetable, hub remembered the butternut and retrieved it sneakily. Hearing a bloodcurdling scream I ran to the kitchen to find my daughter in tears and orange slices piled up on the table.
'Daddy's killed Baby Butternut!' she sobbed.
2 comments:
MURDERER!!!!
Oh poor poor baby butternut. I'm not surprised your lovely girlie was gutted - SO AM I!
mmm, roasted butternut squash with roast garlic. slurrrp.
Yum - sounds better than mashed up with demarara sugar and cinnamon
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