The morning got off to a very promising start. I was able to spring out of bed (that’s in MY mind) without an ‘AaaYAHHH!’ to be heard. Straight into the shower I went with a ‘hey nonny no’ and a ‘tra, la, la’ and just in case you are envisioning some overcrowding therein, I should perhaps just have said that I was singing. I must explain something here. I sing a lot – no matter how stressed. I can always drag up an appropriate lyric and tune to fit the mood. So, two or three songs later, I am drying off to ‘While Shepherds Washed their Socks by Night’ and rejoicing in the fact that I was actually reaching all the way down to my feet (with nary a twinge) when it dawned upon me that I had no moisturiser with which to anoint (or iron out) the body.  

I lifted the tangled tresses from my face and peered into the cabinet.‘DAILY MOISTURISING @^#@$#@’ – I couldn’t quite make out the last word, besides it had me at ……’.MOISTURISING…’ I squeezed a generous amount into my left hand, put some into my right, bent down with confidence and proceeded to spread the miracle cream int0 my legs and feet. It was not being absorbed. I rubbed harder. It began to increase in volume and then…. froth.!….whaaaat?! ‘Frosty the Snowman’ froze on my lips as I realised that I was slathered in shampoo!

Now readers of a certain age will appreciate the irony of this when I tell them that any hair follicles I once had on my limbs have emigrated to pastures new – like my chin!! And so, to the rather ‘choonless’ slogan of ‘Should’ve gone to f—— S—savers, tra-la-la !!’ I found myself stepping back into the shower cabinet for a quick rinse and a spot of conditioner! I felt it only fitting that I should blow dry the legs with the hair drier and ask myself if I was’ doing anything nice today?’

The trip to the shops with my lovely neighbour was fine but my feet and legs were all over the place. I can’t believe I forgot to lacquer them!

Many moons ago there was a face product on the market called, simply, ‘Vanishing Cream’.

‘I wouldn’t bother using that, hen,’ advised my father, dolefully.’It disnae work…..your mother’s been using it for years an’ she’s still here!’