GRANDMA’S CHOCOLATE CAKE
‘Do I have to wear this?’ I said, tugging at the bow-tie around my neck and pulling the super-tight shorts out of my bottom. ‘I look like a ventriloquist’s dummy.’
‘You look very smart,’ said Mum. ‘Grandma bought you that outfit. She’ll be excited to see you wearing it.’
‘I thought we weren’t meant to get her excited,’ I said, remembering the whole creeping-up-on-Grandma-dressed-as-the-Grim-Reaper thing I got in trouble for on Halloween.
Mum ignored me. ‘And make sure she sees you with this.’
She shoved the big, fluffy teddy bear into my arms.
‘You’re kidding! I thought I’d hidden it under the bed.’
‘She likes to know that you play with her Christmas presents.’
‘But I’m twelve, woman. Twelve! What else do you want me play with? A rattle? My own dirty nappies?’
‘Don’t be ungrateful,’ she tutted.
I felt myself getting mad. ‘Oh, thank you sooooo much, Grandma, for buying me this age-appropriate gift. And I particularly love how creepy it is. Look at those goggly eyes. There’s nothing like cuddling up at bedtime with something that looks like a serial killer.’
