Disabled Ginger Bread Men.

Each year the local primary school holds a Christmas Fair and parents are asked to donate raffle prizes and bake cakes for a sale to raise funds for the school fund, Save the Children, Pudsey Bears eye operation or some other worthy cause.
The raffle provides an excellent opportunity to get rid of all the soaps and candles and unwanted tat that we have won at the raffle over the last few years, which seems to be every bodies idea - I swear the prizes are the same each year. I don't mean identical, I mean the actual items. It's like you don't win them outright, just the right to take them home and keep them in the attic for 12 months.
Anyway, to the cake stall. This provides Jenny with the opportunity to show off her culinary skills, and she always bakes a smashing cake which I am forbidden from eating. Actually she normally bakes two smashing cakes, because I am forbidden from eating the first one only once she has discovered that I have already helped myself to a slice. "That was for the school fair - now I'll have to make another." Not all parents are as supportive of this, and I seriously believe the same rules apply as above. Either someone is making identical cakes every year, or there is one particularly sturdy looking Christmas Cake which appears every year and always goes unsold. Maybe it's a display only model, made out of Plaster of Paris. It certainly looks like it and it never, ever sells.
Anyway this year Jenny decided to make some Gingerbread men as well. These are always popular with the children. However, whether it was a particularly dry mix, or a problem with the cutter she used, almost 50% of the finished product lost either an arm or a leg, or in some cases one or more of both during the baking process. Ever practical I suggested that instead of the usual three buttons and a candy walking stick she decorated them in Army Camouflage with prosthetic limbs to support "Help for Heroes." This, she said, was inappropriate humour. Someone might take offence. I disagree. Army Servicemen and women have the same black humour we have in the Emergency Services, You have to have. It;s a defence mechanism, and if you don't have it you go mad. End of story. That is why despite training school banning the use of nicknames, because it might cause offence, the first thing that happens when a new face arrives on shift is that he or she is given a nickname. It's all a part of being a team, fitting in and supporting each other. Literally, if they only have one leg. So I doubt that any serviceman would take offence. No it would be the usual bandwagonners taking offence at the idea that someone would take offence. But since those people wouldn't attend the Christmas Fair for fear of offending non Christians it wouldn't have been a problem anyway. And in any case they are far to busy staying away from work because it snowed ten days ago, and they have to drive 30 miles to County Hall to complain about the traffic congestion and why the gritters haven't been out clearing the roads that they have blocked with their other car, the 4x4 that they abandoned in the carriageway because they didn't know how to turn the traction control off or lock the differential and couldn't understand why it had skidded into the snowdrift in the first place, because it's four wheel drive you know, and it must be faulty I'm going to sue Land Rover.
Errrrr. I've gone off topic now, It must be gingerbread poisoning. Only another 32 paraplegics to eat.