The smell of shite.
We were visiting our family in Ireland, some of my relatives are farmers. We were staying with our Grandmother, who is not currently a farmer nor does she live on a farm. However, our Grandmother’s main activity was to guilt you in to eating lots (as she would never eat it and it would just be a waste) then berate you for eating too much.

During this visit I consumed things in quantities that would not appear in usual diet, probably a whole fruit cake followed by 3 pints of blue lemonade. Anyway, my guts started to complain.

There I was sat at the kitchen table, guts struggling. My younger brother (about 6 at time) comes in through the back door after playing in the snow. I help him off with his hat, gloves, coat and a silent fart escapes.

Miss Marple, Poirot, CSI, have nothing on my Grandmother as far as detecting the possible sources for the smell of shite or piss, for that matter. It was almost as if the shite-alarm went off and source must be found - gather the extended family there is a stool on the loose. So, I lied I said very firmly it was my brother’s coat, it must have got shite on it when he was visiting the farm.

So, off I went and put it in the washing machine – it took a good few days to dry. So, my little brother had to watch from the window as we played in the snow. Just for the record I was about 16 at the time.
(Free pens 100, 101, 102 is still counting on, Tue 23 Oct 2012, 10:46, Reply)