I didn't notice when it happened . . . .
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I may have mentioned it before, but I chair meetings of the 'Aquis-of-the-Romans Residents Association'. The social committee had decided that it would be a good idea to hold a sort of Easter F�te at the local Club, and so held a meeting for all interested parties to plan it out. It was decided that, in order to amuse the kiddies of the village, someone should dress as the Easter Bunny and hand out Easter Eggs, judge the Easter Bonnet competition, that kind of thing (and presumably a lot of hopping).
"So", the meeting chair said, "all we need is a volunteer to wear the bunny costume." To my horror, all eyes turned to me expectantly. I went into a cold sweat, and panicked a little, before remembering my Get-Out-Of-Jail free card.
"OK", I said, relieved to have the trump card in the deck, "if you can find a costume that will fit me, I'll wear it." Being 6'2" and massively overweight, I knew myself to be in a winning position � no fancy dress costume would fit. The ladies of Lark Rise (an outlying hamlet to Aquis-of-the-Romans) looked at each other with a knowing smile, and then back to me. "We'll make you one."
I'm not sure, but I think I might just have done a little bit of sick in the back of my mouth! So now, here I am, trapped. I'm not sure exactly when it was that I started living in a sitcom.
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