18/04/05 Strawberry Scuffle

When I was about 10, the whole family were out one night having a posh meal.
There were 6 of us altogether. The fact that there were 6 of us dictated that posh meals out weren't that much of a regular occurrence.
Having my order taken directly by a waiter, rather than a proxy order given by my parents, made me feel rather adult and sophisticated.
I'd got though ordering the starter and main courses with impressive ease, and was now considering the dessert section as the waiter prepared to write down my order.
The menu had been typed out. I later discovered that there was a slight issue with the Remington typewriter's small "o", in that it's circular form had a small gap in it.
I confidently asked for a "Strawberry Scuffle". A catastrophic error. It was a "Strawberry Souffle" featuring the aforementioned typewriter disability.
Cue endless, prolonged laughter from the rest of the family, the waiter, the other waiters who came across wondering what was so goddamn funny, the head waiter, the adjoining tables. My sophisticated adult poise lay in tatters. I realised that I would never hear the end of this.
Then my Dad said "You'll never hear the end of this!".
It's fair to say that I have never heard the end of this indeed. And there is still no end in sight.
No Park family gathering has ever occurred without at least one passing reference to Jim and his "Strawberry Scuffle" clanger.
Every important family meal/gathering has a metaphorical roadie taping down a "conversation set list" onto the table, and you can be sure that "Strawberry Scuffle" will undoubtedly make an appearance. It has achieved a mythical place in the Park family history. It is how I will be remembered. It is my most noted contribution to civilisation.
I'm actually thinking of creating a new dessert called "Strawberry Scuffle" to cash in on my notoriety. Strawberries would be involved (obviously). I could maybe make some meringues, wrap them in a tea towel, then jump up and down on top of them to create the "scuffle" effect. A bit of strawberry pummelling with a rolling pin, mixed in with cream and fresh mint would complete my culinary masterpiece.
I will then track down any surviving members of the Remington family and shove a plateful of it into each of their faces. My redemption will then be complete and I will be able to get on with the rest of my life, finally quitting the psychotherapy sessions at last.