Poor Mummy Sheep

Sunday, and a traditional Sunday .

As we were growing up up, it was expected that the mother of the house hold would cook a full Sunday roast. Most weeks mum would start with good intentions and buy the joint of meat, potatoes and some veg, that she could cook in to submission :)

But mainly it was, 'oh not lets bother I will just cook the meat and we will have some sandwiches'. That was fine she could cook meat but when it came to the rest well let just say interesting at best.

Once mum cooked a roast dinner that was ok but the roast lamb was gorgeous, so good I wanted more. Sorry was the reply we got, we only have whats on our plates. In my six/seven year old brain came the solution, a cunning plan to gain possession of her meat. I looked at big sis.

Me: Angie do you like lamb?

Sis: Yes.

Me: Oh, (long pause) only I was thinking how sad the mummy sheep must be, when it's baby had gone to be eaten.

Sis: Mum tell her to stop it.

Me: I bet it's mummy was crying for it, and it had gone so we can eat it.

Sis : ( now pushing her dinner to one side, and starting to cry).

Me: Mum if she doesn't want her meat can I have it?

Now if my girls had done that to one of their sisters they would have been in serious trouble and would have had to leave the table.

I on the other hand had got the extra meat. This is some thing I remember with shame and remorse now I am older.

Sis did start eating lamb again some time later, until around ten years ago.

Her son had come for Sunday lunch with his other sibling and their partners. (My nephew was a vegetarian then)

Sis to the family: This lamb cost me an fortune.

Nephew: It cost the lamb a lot more!

Needless to say she is quite sensitive, and has not bought or eat any lamb since.