“Oh Mum, Mum,” cried Samuel urgently, “I need a dollar ‘cause tomorrow they’ve got a special stall at school and they’re selling sex cookies.”
“Sex cookies – that doesn’t sound right. Are you sure that’s what they’re called.”
“I’m sure. I’m really sure. Sex cookies.”
“But Darling, they wouldn’t sell sex cookies to school children.” I’m thinking it sounds like something illicit activity on the internet, but that can’t be what he means.
“Well, because…” I try to think how I can explain that it just wouldn’t be a suitable name for cookies sold to children, but I settle instead for a simpler solution. “Anyway, I’ve never heard of sex cookies. Must be something else. We’ll ask JP.”
“But can I have a dollar, Mum? I really want a sex cookie.”
“We’ll see, Darling. I’ll have to find out what they are first.”
We are sitting on Samuel’s brightly coloured bed and he has been jumping up and down with excitement beside me. Jeremy the black and white Devon Rex has taken this opportunity to escape from his overly enthusiastic cuddles and is meowing at the bedroom door to be let out.
Later, JP returns home from badminton.
“JP, Samuel says they’re selling sex-cookies at school tomorrow?”
“Sex cookies?” JP looks puzzled.
“Yeah, he says there’s a stall or something.”
“Oh, I know,” JP’s eyes light up with amusement, “he means custard kisses.” We both laugh. “Our class has a fundraising stall tomorrow and we’re making custard kisses.”
“Oh, custard kisses. Now, I understand – kisses, sex – I see the connection!”
I go to tell Samuel and we all have a good laugh together at this innocent mix-up.