Honey Buns

Perhaps you are under the impression that you are about to discover a delicious new recipe. If that is the case you are very very mistaken. I am going to tell you the story of the honey buns. For those of you who have heard this story, keep reading. At the very least you will smile. You are probably smiling already. For those readers who have not heard this story, keep reading. You will be amused, amazed and probably appalled as well. This is a true story.

Once upon a time there was a young wife. She had two toddlers in tow. They were a happy little family.The young wife always admired her mother-in-laws buns. No!...not the mother-in-laws caboose. She loved the homemade bread buns that her mother-in-law expertly produced. The buns were so yummy especially slavered with butter and homemade raspberry freezer jam. The young mother decided that she would love to be able to become a master bread baker herself. She hounded her mother-in-law for the recipe. Her mother-in-law tried her very best to help the wanna-be bread baker. This was a very difficult task because in the words of her mother-in-law: "Oh...dear I never measure the ingredients because after so many years of baking bread I just instinctively know how much of what to add." The young mother tried all of the recipes that she could get her hands on. She baked her way through many bags of flour. She had to buy yeast every time she went grocery shopping. Every time she would bake a batch of buns she would place some in front of her husband. She would wait with bated breath for his smile of satisfaction. All she ever got was a grimace. He could barely choke the buns down.

One day her poor,long suffering husband snapped. He had reached the end of his rope. He could not even take one more bite of the botched baking that his wife kept trying to feed him. He issued the bun ban. He said under no circumstances that his young wife was ever to attempt to bake bread again! He was adamant! The young wife agreed with him. They were on a limited budget.

Months passed in domestic harmony and bliss. The young wife practiced her other wifely gifts. She taught herself to knit. She sewed cloths for her children out of scraps. She could bake a mean deep dish apple pie. In the back of her mind she kept thinking about the buns. She started craving buns. One day she could not obey the bun ban any longer. She decided to bake!

She put the yeast into the warm water. She melted the lard and started to mix up the dough. When the dough got to the consistency of a thick paste she ran out of flour. She did not have any way to go to the store to get more flour. Oh no! What to do? She did not dare to throw the dough into the trash bin. She was sure he would discover her error there. Where to hide the evidence? She put the dough into the second place that entered her brain. The honey pot of course! Yes...that should do nicely!

I am sure many of you are quietly wondering..."What on earth is a honey pot?" The young wife and her little family lived in a small village. They had no housing options. They had to live in whatever was available at the time, The available housing did not have indoor plumbing. The toilet facilities consisted of a large pot with a toilet seat attached to it and vented up through the roof. It was the young husbands job to remove the pot when it became stinky and dump it into the outhouse outside. It was into this recipticle that the young wife put the offending dough. She did not think he would scrutinize what he was dumping out of the pot!

The young wife went about her daily business and promptly forgot about the dough. That day her husband had to work very late. She retired for the night and dreamed of how she would decorate rooms in the house that they would someday own. Suddenly her sweet dreams were shattered by a blood curdling scream followed by some gibberish then a resounding yell. She recognized the voice of her beloved. She jumped out of her bed and ran to where the commotion was coming from. The ruckus led her to the bathroom. In the bathroom she saw the most astonishing sight she had ever seen in her whole life. Hovering over the toilet seat, shining like a bright moon was her husbands bum. Attached to his bum were sticky strands of the discarded dough. As her husband straightened up and moved away from the toilet the dough came trailing in long strings with him. The dough had rose to unbelievable proportions.

To this day the young wife has not seen anything as funny. Nothing can rival the picture that was embedded into her mind. A whole new twist was given to the endearment "honey bun"