Spotted Dick For Dessert

In the last bit of time before my father had the stroke that put him in a nursing home, my parents got pretty flirty with each other at their dining room table while they were waiting for me to finish cooking the evening meal. This was a little embarrassing for me because I had never seen them behave in that way, but it seemed healthy for them. So, once, just for giggles, I served my parents British spotted dick for dessert. Hilarious. Neither of them could believe it when I announced what I would be serving, and they were puzzled that I seemed to be speaking so out of character. I draped a towel over my arm like a waiter in a fancy restaurant and brought in the can of Heinz Spotted Dick on a platter, pointing out its amusing name with flourishes. Oh, no, they both laughed, saying that they could not possibly eat it. I served it anyway. Father pulled a face, then realized it was just raisin cake and tucked into the sweet treat. It was toothsome. Mother made as much fun of it as possible, then ate all of hers too. Goofy memories.