They each
make cakes. Not real cakes, but cakes made out of their special blue sand. Everyone puts a lot of effort into their cakes and Jo
orders me to judge them. “You must give 1st, 2nd and 3rd
prize, Mama,” she said.
Hmmmm.
I say, Mama
is not going to give 1st, 2nd and 3rd prize
(Jo: WHAAATT??!) but I’m going to give individual awards.
The most
Perfect Cake, which is technically the best and made with the most precise
measurements, goes to THIS ONE! (Jo preens)
The most
Exquisite Cake, because it’s quaint and tiny and is littered with
delicious-looking bits of garnish, is THIS ONE! (Day proceeds to cut up and squash his cake)
(At this
point, Lulu starts to wail. Why am I always the LAST ONE? The last one means I’m
the lousiest, right?)
Of course
not, Lulu, I say. This is not 1st, 2nd, 3rd, I’m
giving out individual awards which means everyone’s cake is fabulous in
different ways.
The most
Creative Cake, because its a round dome and goes against the usual concept of a
four-sided cake, and because it’s unusually segmented rather than tiered, goes
to THIS ONE!
(Lu is
still very miserable)
Still.
Sometimes, the ability to make words work in my favour is useful for getting out of sticky situations.
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