Dukes of Haggard

Its official. I'm looking particularly old and haggard this weekend. One of the dancers in the panto, a little lad called Gregory who's about 7 and daft as a brush, asked me if I used to be his dad's dinner lady. Dinner lady!!! As if? It was bad enough being called a milf on Friday but old enough to be his dad's dinner lady? He also asked me if I really loved the woman who plays principal boy. I replied that I hated her and she was a bitch (which was a complete lie 'cause she's my best mate and I love her to bits) but then told him I was only kidding. He's a strange one that child. He told me I wasn't allowed to swear in the theatre and I apologised but then he seemed to be a bit outraged that two of the older ladies were laughing like drains. "What is it? A theatre or an arcade?" he piped up, "Well, we're not allowed to swear but we are allowed to laugh." I said. And then with perfect timing, and unaware of my conversation with Gregory, one of the chaps jokingly told the ladies off for laughing. "See! I told you!" Gregory shouted.

I was also told a funny anecdote about my godmother this afternoon. Martin, the pianist for the panto, is my godmother's nephew and on our way to rehearsal this afternoon he spotted a familiar shop called Quality Seconds. There's another branch near him and the locals all refer to it as 'Quality Secs' (get it?). Well , apparently my godmother was on a coach trip with some pensioners and was singing the praises of this shop. "You can't beat Quality Secs!" she blurted out without thinking. Oops.