Roddy Doyle's Charlie Savage: Not strictly ballroom
Myself and the wife are just back from the hospital. We were there with identical injuries. We even shared the same ambulance, and saved the State a few bob. It must the sign of a successful marriage - is it? - when yourself and your beloved can sit side by side in A+E, sharing the groans and bandages. And after all that, a night and most of a day in sunny Beaumont, we're still talking to each other. Although in my case that's not easy, because I bit off the tip of my tongue. And the wife still isn't certain who I am.
Let me explain.
The little grandson is going to dance lessons, in a place that used to be an office suppliers, at the back of an industrial estate that doesn't really have any industries left in it. Anyway, it - that's the Itchy Feet Junior Dance Academy - looks a bit threadbare at the moment. Actually, it's like stepping into the GPO in 1916, the day after the lads surrendered. So they need to raise funds for a few cans of paint and a ceiling.