Hot cross buns? Or not hot cross buns?

When I was growing up my father and mother were in the Communist Party. One result of this was that they tended to mark everything as OK or not-OK. They were also Jewish - lapsed - or collapsed - not sure which - and this also had some OK or not-OK things about it too. As a kid, I didn't always know whether the OK or not-OK thing being talked about was OK or not-OK because they were Communists or because they were Jewish or both. Liking pickled herring was, I figured, not a Communist thing. But what about Jesus? My dad said that there was nothing wrong with Jesus but 'You don't have to be meek. If they tell you at school, you have to be meek, say you don't want to be meek, you want to be bold.' So, was that a Communist thing, or a Jewish thing? I don't know.
Anyway, my mum died a long time ago and my dad died in 2008, and I sometimes wake up and feel that I need to refer to them about something...something doctrinal like Jeremy Corbyn, or hot cross buns. I've figured out the Corbyn thing all on my own. Well, with the help of a few thousands others, but let's keep politics out of this for a moment. What about hot cross buns?


Easy. They're bloody lovely.

But I didn't do it. I really didn't. It was a long time ago.