Harvest Festival

When I was a child, I can remember my mother dashing around at the last minute trying to find things for me to take in to school for the harvest festival. It was either because I'd forgotten to tell her until the morning of the festival itself, or that she'd forgotten until the last minute, or that we were simply disorganised. There'd be a lot of cudboard door opening and slamming until she would eventually press either an old tin of sweetcorn or a tin of ravioli into my hands and send me on my way.

My daughter brought home a letter from school this week outlining the requirements for their harvest festival, although I didn't have trouble in guessing that it was still a couple of items of 'non-perishable food'. Driving in this morning, she uttered an "oh no!" followed by a reminder that we had forgotten our non-perishables: items were due in today. Panic set in and my mother seemed to dash before my eyes, searching for tins.

Thinking quickly, I pulled the car over onto a double yellow line, jumped out and dashed into the nearest newsagents, one of the most poorly stocked shops I have ever ran into. I emerged a minute later with two tins, one of sweetcorn and another of ravioli.

Old habits die hard.