It's taking ages for me to squeeze the last of the toothpaste out of the tube and on to my toothbrush. Why is this? Why can't we design an 'easy squeeze tube'? We can place a man on the moon for no particular reason other than it's there! I think this sort of thought every time I'm in the bathroom with an empty tube, toilet roll, the last piece of soap or something very similar as I wander down to the kitchen to get some refill or other, wearing only a smile and hoping the curtains are shut.

So when I open the kitchen door with a slipping towel and find my missus and her sister sat there, the towel is around my ankles and I'm
caught big time! The response from the sister is
'I didn't think it was that cold in here this morning!'

They snigger in unison and then it's followed by
'I see what you mean about his op!'

and then some more sniggering, only a little bit louder this time. I draw the towel around me. I brazen it out:
'Toothpaste, please!' I request. More sniggering and a fresh tube is thrust in my direction. I reach out to grab the tube, one side of the towel which I thought I had hold of and didn't, fell away again. More sniggering and my missus saying
'I wish I had a camera.' followed by her sister saying
'a microscope more like!'

The kitchen erupted into 'roll on the floor' laughing so I returned to the bathroom to finish the ablutions in peace and quiet.

Twenty minutes later I arrive back down stairs and I can hear them
still in the kitchen sniggering. I grab the dogs (GOD BLESS'UM) and head
out of the front door. I'll have my breakfast later when the sister has
gone home! I turn right out of the house, down the street, past 'The Other Pub' and out on to the common, into the fresh spring air. A nice walk ensued. I soon forgot my embarrassment as I walked, noticing the trees are turning a green shade, cowslips in the grass are cowslipping, spring has arrived and the dogs (GOD BLESS'UM) taking pride in being alive. After two hours of walking we turn for home as our bellies are really empty, food is required for us all!

We arrive at the back door. She is still here - sat in the kitchen drinking tea. I'm informed by my missus that she's staying for lunch (ohohoohoh joy of joys) so I smile and say
'That's nice!'. I start to kick off my wellies and look for the towel to wipe the dogs (GOD BLESS'UM) down, when I hear
'I hope I didn't embarrass you too much this morning? But it was funny.' said the sister.
'It was ok.' I said.
'Good! Fancy a cuppa and some toast?' comes the response and she starts to fill the kettle. The bread is put in the toaster and the kitchen starts to fill with the smell of toasting bread. I finish towelling the dogs (GOD BLESS'UM) and sit at the table sipping a hot cuppa, munching on the buttery toast, staring into space not stopping the odd thought that passed through my head like 'is this strawberry jam homemade or not? Homemade!' and 'my left foot arch is really itchy.' But this is not to last as the house is now full of women. I'm feeling a little bit hen-pecked as I get a nudge on my back.
'Are you listening to me?' says my missus.
'Of course, when do I not?' I say.
'What did I say, then?!' she says.
'Don't know. I wasn't listening!' I say.
'I knew it!' she says.
'Well done' I say.
'What on earth are you on about?!' she says.
'Just congratulating you for knowing that I wasn't listening!' I say.
'Smartass!' she says.
'Thank you!' I say.
'So the Marx Bro's are alive and well!' says the sister.
'Oh well. The sun is out and time for the pub!' I say.
'I think not! You're going to help my sister later and I want you sober.' she says.
'I am?' I say.
'You are!' she says.
'No pressure there, then!' sister says.

I get up, look at the pair of them and smile.
'I'll be in the garage, sanding!' I say expecting a bit of gob from the pair of them. But no, they had won and they smile back as I leave for the garage.

'I'm just popping out to get some sandpaper, tinker!' I shout.
'Ho No YOU'RE NOT! You're staying here.' The word of GOD booms out into the garage.
'Byeeeeeeeeee!' I shout back.

It takes about 3 seconds for her to arrive in the garage; the doors
will never be the same! I look at her sniggering. She is not sniggering,
she is glaring - good at it, too, I must admit!
'I want you to stop this childish behaviour now and listen!' she says.
'Ok tink! What's the problem?' I say.
'Good. I want you, we want you, to have a word with my
sisters' bloke when he gets here!' she says.
'Ok, but I think he may not want to talk.' I say.
'Oh, I think he will. But let him start as he's worried and
he's been asking me to ask you about it!' she says.
'Really? WHAT?' I say.
'Phimosis.' she says.
'WHAT????' I say too loud.
'Phimosis.' she says.
'OoooOOOooooh that???' I say (as if I knew what the f***
she was on about!)
'Good, I'll tell my sister you'll talk to her bloke then!'
she says leaving me stood in the garage.

I'm now stuffed; I'm in too deep to get out. I turn and pick up
the sander wishing I could be somewhere else, anywhere else but here. I
turn on the sander and start sanding but my mind is elsewhere for the
next hour or so! I hear the back door open and then close and then the
deeper voice. He's arrived and it is now time for lunch. I feel strange
right in the pit of my stomach. I am no longer hungry and am wondering just what is Phimosis and can I catch it. I enter the kitchen. They are all there standing around chatting, being friendly, knowing what's to happen. So let's get lunch over with.

It's a nice light salad for lunch and he's a nice bloke. He's only
been seeing her for around 6 month's and still very much in the lovie
dovie period of the relationship! On my third glass of wine and his fourth the wine starts to loosen the pair of us up. We're sitting at the kitchen table sniggering at something stupid when, out the corner of my eye, I see the missus, giving me the 'Go on then, do it now!' look. I give her the 'You do it!' look and she gives me the 'If you don't do something I'll give you no peace!' glare. So I cough and summon up most of the courage I've been saving just in case of World War III!

'Now then!' I say. 'Err Hum!' I say next. 'Ahhh!' I say next again!
'I think what Jack is trying to say is...' My missus says.
'Ho, why don't you tell Jack the problem?' the sister says to her bloke. I am really embarrassed for him as I know all too well (Toothpaste!) that women have this natural ability to make you feel embarrassed and on these types occasions it comes out, big time!
'Phimosis.' he says quietly.
'Ho? What's that then and can I catch it?' I say moving away from him.
'Apparently I have a this problem with my 'bits' and I have to lose my, my, MY...' he says.
'Foreskin? Well you know I have had mine removed?' I say.
'Yes, and I was going to ask you, about... ?' he says.
'What's going to happen and what's it like after?' I say, second guessing.
'Yep!' he says.
'Ok, but not here in front of the women. This is for men and men only!' I say.
'We'll find out soon enough!' says her sister.
'Yeah, of course you will, but not yet and you are not coming with us!' I say to them all!

I left with her sister's bloke for the safety of my shed in the
garden and we had our bloke talk about the 'op' he's going to have and
has to have because he's left it a bit too long! Like most men and their
'bits', we (and that's the royal we) leave it too long to see a doctor
about things like these, or are unable to talk about it to our mates so we tend to keep it to ourselves and then it's too late! So to all the blokes out there with 'stuff' that needs to be out in the open; go down the pub and tell the landlord and, soon enough, it will be all around your mates and then you won't feel bad about it. It's so much better then telling your missus about it and having the knowing looks from her mates!

The Rev Jacks Diary Archive

The Rev Jack Russell

28.04.05 Front Page

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