When I was younger I suffered from asthma. Every 6 months or so I would have an attack and have to take a week off school. The not being able to breathe part wasn’t so much fun but I did get to spend the week at my nana’s. I had to take a tiny tablet. It was an awful mix of chalk and paracetamol swallowing it was worse than listening to someone dragging their nails down a blackboard.
“Now don’t tell your father” my nana would say as she hid the tablet in a tablespoon of ice cream. After I swallowed it I’d poke out my tongue to prove that it was gone and she would pass over a bowl with another scoop of ice cream. This happened 3 times a day. As I got older the role reversed and I was helping my nana take her medication. On her 80th birthday we took her out of the home to enjoy some high tea. Immediately she pointed to the scones. My dad passed her a finger sandwich “this first and then these” he says as he puts her medication on the plate. She frowns as she can no longer talk. As my dad begins to make a plate for himself I break open a scone. I carefully apply a layer of jam then slap on about 4 table spoons of cream onto one half. Nana’s eyes light up as I hand it to her. She begins by licking off the cream then takes a bite and another then another until it is all gone. Finally dad looks up, nana gives a great big smile thinking that she had gotten away with it. But her enthusiasm had got the better, she managed to get cream on her forehead, nose and chin.