I can understand the premise of wanting to give your partner a present they have never received before. A present that is innovative and creative, yet truly personal. A present that they will love and cherish for the rest of their days. A present that they can hang over the mantelpiece and show off to friends and family and even the boss, should they come around for dinner.
Yes, the four of us could understand that.
But, before we had got around to discussing such a present, we had been warming our hands on hot coffee mugs and muttering darkly about how Michael Flatley is using his dancing shoes to beef up his artistic endeavours and getting paid a bucket load of money to boot.
We wondered if we tried the same thing would we get €70,000 for it.
"I think we'd have to pay the recycling man to take them away instead," Patsy said.
Maggie then went onto explain how painting with your feet is now so last year. It seems the new kid on the block is nellie art.
Yes, you read that right, but I'll spell it out lest there is any confusion. Painting. Pictures. With. Your. Nellie.
You couldn't make it up.
"You mean you slap paint on to your lady parts!" Josie shrieked even louder than when she heard Michael Flatley was slapping paint on his shoes.
Indeed you do and then… well… I'm not quite sure how it works, but it seems you lay the canvas over something like a step ladder or the side of the bath which you then straddle. When everything is in place, you do a little tap dance on the canvas with your nethers and, lo and behold, an erotic masterpiece is produced.
I googled one of these 'masterpieces' and showed it to Patsy. She reckoned it looked like a cross between a skinned rat and a head of broccoli. Not much eroticism there then.
Anyway, nellie art all came to a head last week when it was revealed that a woman in Sydney decided to do some for her partner. She ran around to the local art shop, purchased some supplies and slapped it on her nellie. She produced the above skinned rat/broccoli creation, but, within days, her nethers had also produced a cyst the size of a golf ball, which required surgery, antibiotics and a week off work.
"It felt like I'd been horse riding for weeks," she said. "I couldn't put my legs together."
"Sounds like she mislaid the paint brush as well," Patsy remarked.
The moral of this story is either use non-toxic paint or keep your pants on. I'm going with the latter.