On reflection, I cannot claim that anything considered hilarious has ever happened to me, so maybe a selection of fairly funny episodes might be the go here.

One of the funniest times was on my wedding day.  My bridesmaid Dorothy had been threatening that when the preacher got to the part where he asks “If anyone knows of any reason why these two people should not be joined in Holy matrimony, let him speak now or forever after hold his peace”, she would shout “Me!”  It was a freezing winter’s day with snow on the ground, so after wrapping myself in my uncle’s big coat and enjoying a quick fag in the vestry while waiting for my groom to arrive, I fronted up to the altar.  All went well until the preacher-man got to the relevant part, upon which Dorothy nudged me.  My nerves almost got the better of me, and I had to bite the insides of my cheeks to prevent myself from bursting into hysterical laughter.  You had to be there!

Another good memory is of when I and my two sisters, Anne and Helen went to a faith healing service, as Anne suffered (and still does) from psoriasis and vertigo.  Again, all went well until Helen whispered “I wonder what everybody is suffering from?  We might catch something!”  Again, a lot of cheek biting saved the day.  Again, you had to be there!

One time I didn’t have to hold in agonised laughter was when my grandson was expected, and my son Vince asked that he be allowed to be the one to smack the baby’s bottom and tell it not to go up there again!  You probably didn’t need to be there!

More recently, when the photographer from the Cockburn Gazette took a photo of the group in the library, Tony’s head got in the way of the lovely cat on my jumper.  One of the club members rose to the occasion magnificently by calling across the hall on the day of the party, “Nice picture, pity about your pussy!”  You probably were there!

On reading this, I’ve come to the conclusion that the funny things that happen to me happen because of the people around me, unlike my Mother, who actually slipped on a banana skin on Friday the 13^th, and who burst into uncontrollable giggles when reading a book.  She explained that she had misread a description of an octopus as having 8 foot long testicles.  I wish I could have claimed that one for myself, but I had a boss who once told me that I had a nasty streak of honesty that wouldn’t get me anywhere!  Pity!