“I read an article the other day where Twiggy says it’s okay to wear leathers at sixty-five.
“Well, if she can wear them at 65, then I can damn well wear them at 53,” Maggie huffed as she attempted to sit down in the coffee shop.
It sounded like her trousers needed to be oiled.
Yes, she had dug out those leather trousers again, the same trousers that last saw the light of day about 30 years ago.
Back then they could have been described as tan in colour.
This time round they are the same hue as the contents of a baby’s nappy and smelled like a cross between damp mould and a well-hung badger.
The trousers made a peculiar sound as she walked, as if the cow they had been flayed off still inhabited their soul and was in deep pain.
As she sat down, five flies appeared fresh from the bog and started buzzing around her knees.
If any more arrived she would have to start beating them off with a cricket bat.
“So, will you be doing some bareback bull riding over the weekend?” Patsy sniggered.
She was in flying form. The trip to the dentist to get Jose’s gob sorted had gone even better than she could have hoped for.
“You’d want to hear the language out of him as me and the dentist wrestled him into the chair. I had to sit on him until he stopped wriggling,” she said.
It wouldn’t be the first time she has sat on him to stop him wriggling.
According to Patsy, when Jose eventually opened his mouth (or had his mouth opened for him) the dentist declared he had never seen the like before.
“Utter carnage,” were his exact words and he proceeded to berate him for letting things get this far.
“Jose was bawling at this stage,” Patsy explained. “I had to pat his head to calm him down.”
The dentist thought it would be best if Patsy left the room as she was proving to be a distraction for Jose.
The next time she saw her husband he was minus three teeth, leaving a gap in the front big enough to post a letter through.
Luckily, the dentist was able to give him some temporary teeth.
These will hold for about six weeks until he gets some permanent ones.
She whipped out her phone to show us a photo of his pearlies.
They were a little on the big side and reminded me of one of the dogs in the Pedigree advert with the human smile.
“Isn’t he gorgeous?” Patsy sighed.
Josie and I agreed he was.
Maggie was too busy swatting flies to notice…