Auntie Doris’s Twelve Days of Christmas. #8: Eight Maids a Milking.

 

8thI had been wanting the front room wallpapering for a while. I had persuaded my Raymond to buy some lovely paper. Eight rolls of lovely brown stuff with an orange and silver floral design. It was just after we got our Betamax video recorder. And the night that I was wanting him to get started on the job, his ruddy brother Bernard came around with a ruddy film to watch with him. And do you know what the film on it was called? Only “Eight Maids a Milking” that’s all! Course, the soft beggars didn’t realise I had spotted that they had it, and they waited ’till I was out of they way before they watched it. I always used to go round to our Pearl’s on a Wednesday night, once we had made amends over the tea caddy business. We used to choose what we would buy out of the Kay’s catalogue, and I used to collect the money for what she had bought before, then we used to do spot the ball together, and talk over the old times. Anyway, when I got back that night my Raymond and his Bernard seemed a bit subdued. There was no wallpapering done and they had the sort of looks on their faces that men have when they have been up to no good. So the next day, when I was in on my own, I got the tape out from where they had hidden it (under the ottoman) and put it in the machine. Ruddy Nora! I have never seen such a load of tripe in my life. There was this farmer who wanted to employ some milkmaids to work in his dairy, but when they came for the interview, he didn’t have any ruddy cows. So him and his three sons got down on all fours, stark naked, and told the poor lasses to demonstrate their milking ability on them. I would have chucked a bucket of water over the filthy sods, but that’s not what happened in the film. I wasn’t having that sort of muck in MY house. I put Sellotape over the bit that made it record again and taped Afternoon Plus and the Galloping Gourmet over their silly ruddy film. After that, I half filled a bucket with wallpaper paste, and I presented it to Raymond when he got in. “There” I said. “I’ve been busy while you’ve been out.” You should have seen his face! “You had better get that front room wallpapered quicksticks,” I said “and if you need any help, you can ask your ruddy Bernard You seem pretty chummy with him these days. And if you run out of ruddy paste, I’m sure that the pair of you can make some more. Anyway, I got the front room papered, and I never saw another tape like that in the house. So they had either learned their lesson or found a better hiding place. Eight maids a milking? No thank you! It would be a different matter if my true love had sent me a few cows instead of all those birds, but what the ruddy hell would I want milkmaids for? (Uncle Raymond felt a little queasy after reading the above story, he declared himself “not in the mood” for adding a Christmas Cracker Cackle of the Day, and went for a lie down.)

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