I have discovered that Mrs Tuckwell, the middle-aged lady next door, cooks continuously, because every time I toddle down her pathway, she has pikelets on the griddle, almost ready for me to eat.
Many years later, I found out that Mum gave Mrs Tuckwell a warning that I was on my way down the path.
I am still quite partial to them, but over the past eighteen months, *not* eating them has been one of the ways I have lost twenty kilos.
I wonder if Mrs Tuckwell knew this song from 1950? (Presumably not in the Ernie and Cookie Monster version from 1969.)
I think every little boy should have a neighbour like Tuckey.
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