Mrs H was one of the best bakers in town. Her pastries were always light, not stodgy; her bread never failed to rise. And as for her cakes? Nobody ever regretted one of her sponges. If any one of her friends and neighbours needed something for a special occasion, Mrs H was always top of their list.
Tonight was the night the local ladies' bridge circle met. Mrs H was an important member - almost essential to the proceedings! - and, as usual, she was preparing a treat for the other members. She had decided to bake gingerbread men. With her skill at baking and her eye for detail, Mrs H's gingerbread men were culinary works of art. They were not the crude, cookie-cutter caricatures that others made. Indeed not! Mrs H took pride in her work and made every gingerbread man an individual. Sometimes it was the sweep of the hairline that she had marked with a fork. Sometimes it was a subtle difference in the gumdrop buttons. Whatever it was, it meant that no two of her creations were alike.
In the time it took for the gingerbread men to cook then cool to a crispy perfection, Mrs H had made herself ready for the evening. Like the perfect housewife, she saw to her family's needs then put her treats in a tin and hurried out to the bridge circle.
"Mrs H!" Mrs K greeted her with a kiss at the door of her suburban cottage. "Come on in! What have you brought for us?"
"Gingerbread men." And Mrs H opened the tin to the appreciative oohs! and aahs! of the others.
"And they look just like," Mrs M began.
"My husband!" Mrs O giggled.
And this was true. Mrs H had modelled her gingerbread men on the husbands of the ladies in her bridge circle. "Mind," Mrs H admonished them. "There's one each. Make sure you take the right one. We don't want any tongues to wag."
The tin was passed around, much to the delight of the company. Except one. Mrs Q held up her gingerbread man. "What's this?" she demanded, pointing at a misshapen lump on her pastry.
"Don't you know?" Mrs H asked, an impish smile playing about her lips.
"I have no idea," came the indignant reply.
Mrs H giggled. "Well, dear, you did say it had been a long time since you had gotten a rise from your man. So - !"
The rest of her reply was drowned out by unladylike shrieks of laughter.
