Fisherwomen's tales

>> Tuesday, 24 August 2010

God, these summer holidays are dragging on a bit. Aren't they? I mean, I love my sons and everything but after a day as Camp Ents Officer, by the time evening comes around I'm too exhausted to even think about coming up with original thought to put on the blog. So I am - as you may have noticed - grasping for inspiration wherever I can find it.

Luckily for me there are loads of great bloggers out there with far more interesting stuff to say than I have, and today's shot in the arm came to me courtesy of the fantastic Troutie (who's been featured on The Potty Diaries before as British Mummy Blogger of the Week). Today she posted about having possibly her last pre-arrival of 2nd baby massage, and this put me in mind of a story told to me by a very good friend about what happened to her husband once on holiday.

At the time they were in the middle of an impossibly romantic and glamorous trans-continental relationship. He was living in Australia, and she was in London. They used to meet in fabulous places and 'catch-up' (if you know what I mean). On this particular holiday, they met at a well known spa in Thailand; and during the holiday my friend S found out to her horror that her unreconstructed bloke of a beloved had never had a massage. As a special treat, she arranged for him to have one, and decided to have one herself at the same time.

They duly went in for their relaxing experiences. As they came out, she asked him what he thought of it. "All right" he replied. "But my legs got very tired."

S was confused. "Your legs? What do you mean?"

"Well, you know. They were hanging off the end of the table. I had to keep them straight, and it wasn't that comfortable, to tell the truth..."

S questioned him more closely. And let's just say, never having had a massage before, he hadn't realised that the hole at the top of the table was for your face. He thought it was a receptacle for... something else. God only knows what the poor masseuse thought when she came in to find him lying there completely the wrong way around, but she chose not to correct him and so consequently he spent the whole 40-odd minutes lying half on, half off the table, holding on for all he was worth, trying to keep his legs straight....

Men, eh?


Heather 24 August 2010 at 18:37  

oh my God! no way! Bwah ha ha ha, that's the funniest thing I've heard in ages and has left me with a wonderful mental image!

Liz@Violet Posy 24 August 2010 at 19:15  

PSML!!! That is the *funniest* thing I've read in ages, mainly because I could imagine my husband doing the same. Bless!

MrsCandB 24 August 2010 at 19:22  

That is very funny! Visual learner - ~I too have a funny mental image!

Iota 24 August 2010 at 21:26  

I haven't laughed out loud at a blog post for a while, but this one has me chuckling! Why didn't the silly masseuse say something?

Nora 25 August 2010 at 00:24  

Ha! That's great. It put a big grin on my face. He must have felt very silly afterwards when he found out what that hole was for. Hee, hee.

Shiny 25 August 2010 at 09:59  

That is hysterical! I love it x

angelsandurchinsblog 25 August 2010 at 15:38  

That is hilarious. How tall is he? I would love to have been at dinner with the spa staff that night!

Potty Mummy 25 August 2010 at 18:13  

Heather, hilarious, isn't it?

Liz, I think a lot of us could!

MrsCandB, thanks!

Iota, who knows?

Nora, especially because he's never been allowed to forget it.

Shiny, thankyou

EPM, yes, you would say that if you were next for a massage, wouldn't you?

A&UBlog, not very - which I suppose, in this case, is a blessing...

1950s Housewife 25 August 2010 at 18:31  

Love it. Just wrote an article on this the other day for Powder Room Grafitti - don't want to hijack but here it is...

Potty Mummy 26 August 2010 at 18:49  

1950's Housewife, thanks (and aren't all the best people on PRG these days? Cough...)

apartments in dubai 29 August 2010 at 17:01  

That was hilarious. I really loved reading this post. I am going to come here everyday so keep posting

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