Our big girl baked us bread the other night

It was wonderful.
She was watching a cooking show on television and when it was finished came running downstairs and asked me if I would just "google potato and rosemary bread" so I did and -
She mixed it and kneaded it, watched it rise and double in size. She punched it down - ahh she loved that bit. Then she made it look the way she wanted, popped it in the oven, and waited. Oh the smell of freshly baked bread.
She is very clever, my big girl - it was very good, still warm and spread with mustard and gobbled down with left over Christmas ham and pickly things.

You must not throw upon the floor

The bread you cannot eat,

For many a little hungry child

would think it quite a treat.

For wilful waste brings woeful want,

And you will live to say,

'Oh, how I wish I had that bread

That once I threw away.'

ANONYMOUS

This is an old rhyme used in a lighthearted way to smooth over meal-time mishaps. Variations are endless -

 'You must not rub into your hair

The porriage you cannot eat'...