Stan woke up later than usual owing to the comfort of sleeping in his dear wife’s soft cotton nightgown.He had slept better than he often did despite the police calling to question him about a nude woman found wandering in the town centre. at midnight.She had forgotten her name!
Women have much better clothes than men,Emile, he remarked to the cat which was stretched out on the Sun which a visitor had left..I don’t know why I allow that paper in the house You could sleep on a bath towel.
After having a shower,Stan decided to take another look at Mary’s clothes.He found a long denim skirt in light indigo and embroidery which he fancied would match his new cream T shirt.
Of course I shall only wear it while I do the housework he told Emile.After all in Scotland I could wear a kilt.Can you get a denim kilt he wondered.He decided to wear underpants but not to wear Mary’ssilk petticoat.She might get angry with him.
There is a certain logic in wearing a denim skirt as it much cooler than trousers and allows easy movement.But of course one must wear decent underpants in case the wind blows under it and reveals all.That’s why women are always buying packs of pants.So Stan was thinking. and he remembered his old espadrilles which would look good.He stood in front of the mirror and imagined he looked quite fetching.
The doorbell rang and on the step was the Vicar of Knittingham South.
Hello,madam, he said pleasantly.
I’m a man,Stan muttered loudly
Yes,dear,of course you are.May I speak to your husband?
I am the husband,Stan screeched.
Oh,I see.You are gay then, I assume.
Stan pointed to his beard and said,
I am a man. Didn’t you hear me?
Please forgive me, the Vicar said
Some old ladies get quite hairy and with the skirt I thought it was rude to mention your beard.How do you find the skirt,by the way?
Well, it’s very cool having air on the legs and it’s definitely better than shorts.
But a cotton dress would be even better.Are you married?
Yes,said the Vicar but my wife is very intolerant of anything unusual.She’d be furious if I wore her old clothes.
My wife doesn’t know,Stan told him.I bet she’d be angry too because she’d have to iron it again.
Why don’t you wash and iron it before she comes home, the Vicar demanded.
Well, just between the two of us I am afraid of soap powder, irons,telephones, sprouts and making a mistake in a recipe.Also eye tests ,blue litmus paper ,Andrex and crisps
I’m afraid of dentists,fogs , bricks.Art,dogs and sausages the Vicar admitted.And doctors and fierce women who swear at me in the dark.
The two men stood pondering.Are they tarts angry with not getting aby notice from the dear old Vicar.After all Jesus mixed with them.
Come inside, said Stan after a few minutes.Let’s have a coffee.
They sat on the patio drinking their coffee and saw a wren fly past into the weigelia.
That’s the first I’ve seen recently.said Stan.
Emile was asleep again,this time in a woven willow bucket in the kitchen.
Anyway,why did you call,Stan asked the Vicar.We never got to that.
I can’t remember, the dear old man admitted.I’ll have to come back tonight.
Oh,dear Stan said
I think I’d better put some trousers on, he whispered
Yes,you had said Emile.I can see the Bishop outside.
We’ll have to move,cried Stan.
And so say all of us.
For he’s a hollow bowl mellow.
Why not pray for us?
How my heart sings 