A Warming Winter's Tale, Starring Some Misplaced Ribs and a Greedy-Faced Girl

Here's a lovely festive tale to warm your cockles and bring joy to your heart. Last night, I was weary. A tough day at college spent trying to impart meaningful knowledge to classes whose only desire was to play quizzes and eat sweets had left me drained, and an obliging husband was dispatched to D & F Kitchen in East Didsbury to fetch takeaway. Being a school night, we were modest in our desires, and ordered only a main course and rice each (moderation is my actual middle name) so as not to be greedy.

So, we eagerly unpacked our goodies, spreading out our meagre picnic across the living room floor. And that was when we saw it. Nestled in the bottom of the carrier bag was an extra box. A big one. Not asked for, and - gasp - not paid for. With trembling hands, I lifted the lid, fully expecting Lady Luck to fart in my face and present me with a box of steamed mung beans or similar. But no - what we actually got were the biggest, stickiest, most fally-off-the-bone ribs I have ever had in my life, glistening seductively in their unctiously artery-clogging barbecue sauce, and far, far nicer than anything we had chosen from the menu.

Well, obviously we were choked with guilt; honestly, I could hardly force every single last one down. We salute you, D & F Kitchen, and we promise we will pay you for our illicit goods next time we come in - oh, as well as the massive portion of ribs we'll be ordering at the time...