The Custard Panel

Leafing through some photographs on my phone with Mum yesterday, I was alerted to the arrival of an email. Normally, I wouldn’t check while I’m with Mum, but I’ve been waiting for a response on a work matter so I looked. It was an invitation from my local building society to join their customer panel. I said as much to Mum.

“Custard panel?”

“No, Mum, customer panel,” I knowingly corrected her despite not having a clue what it meant.

“Custard panel!” she laughed barely controllably.

It took me back to a day at junior school when my class was asked to write about our favourite food. Some chose cod and chips, others – the more exotic steak and chips (damn, that was sophisticated in the Walsall of the late 60s).  Me? I chose custard. Quite what that said about me I don’t know but I proudly declared my love of the yellow stuff to my classmates:

“Mummy calls me the custard king!custard

They might have laughed with me, they might have laughed at me but laugh they did. I recounted the story to Mum yesterday. She laughed too. Again, I don’t know the source of the laughter and I don’t care. Perhaps, somewhere, she recalled my love of custard, how she would find an excuse to add custard to most puddings. I hope so. Anyway, it was a lovely, precious moment and I left with a warm glow, not unlike the sensation which followed eating a bowl of Mum’s custard.

Will I join the building society’s customer panel? Probably not. Am I still a fully-paid up member of the custard panel, I certainly am.

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2 Responses to The Custard Panel

  1. dementedgirl says:

    Am yaow from Walsall then? My Dad hails from Dudlaaaaaaay and my Grandma’s (who had mental illness and Alzheimers for all the time I knew her) key Alzheimers phrases were all couched in broad Black Country. I can still hear her say, “Ooh our [me] our chuck, do yaowm know I’m ever so porrrr-eerr-laayyyy”. Bit of a hypochondriac, my Gran.

  2. I day really come from Walsall. I grew up there but both sides of the family come from West Bromwich. We’m very proud of ower roots.

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