The bar was staffed by an elderly lady who looked exactly like I imagine Miss Marple. She was wearing a whopping great monster of a ring, a silver behemoth with a glass eye instead of a stone. I had a feeling the glass eye was watching me.
"Two pints of Sussex Best," I said.
"Sorry, what did you say?" she asked.
"Two pints of Sussex Best," I repeated.
She only filled one pint.
"Excuse me, I asked for two pints," I clarified.
"Sorry, what did you say?" she asked.
It was tempting to suggest she should have worn a ring with an ear, not an eye, but I refrained. I eventually walked away with two pints.
My wife and her mother were out shopping, leaving Steve and I to look after Bubba Stoneskin. That suited us fine, we'd rather look after the baby than be dragged round the shops for hours upon hours. We took Bubba down the airfield to drink beer and watch the planes. Steve and I that is, not the Bubba, she doesn't like beer and isn't interested in planes.
We hadn't been there long before Bubba needed her nappy changing. I was tempted to change her out on the windswept airfield took her indoors. I asked Miss Marple if there was a changing mat in the gents' toilet.
"Sorry, what did you say?" she asked, sunlight glinting off the glass eye.
"Is there a changing mat in the gents' toilet?" I asked.
She shook her head forlornly and suggested I used the disabled toilet.
"More space in there," she suggested helpfully, pointing in the general direction of the disabled loo. I swear the glass eye winked at me. I wandered off with the crying Bubba, the glass eye's steely gaze piecing me from behind.
The disabled toilet was occupied, but standing in the doorway of the ladies' was another old dear.
"You can use the changing mat in here," she said. "I'll stay here and make sure you don't get into trouble." This seemed an excellent idea at the time. I had an audience - her daughter and granddaughter were inside. I didn't mind. It was a chance to demonstrate that I, the culmination of the evolution of the modern man, could change a nappy quicker than you could say "Sausage and Egg McMuffin".
The problem was the alignment of the changing mat. Instead of allowing me to stand at her feet I had to stand at her side. Changing the nappy wasn't an issue, but from that angle getting her little baby tights back on was surprisingly tricky. Meanwhile my audience was growing. Ladies were coming in but no-one was leaving, they were all captured by the spectacle. Bubba cooed, grinned and giggled. I sweated like a Turkish wrestler. After what seemed like years I was finished, I carried Bubba out with my tail hanging low. Mad Dog had been defeated. Bubba looked like she had been dressed by a monkey.
You could have said "Sausage and Egg McMuffin" twelve million times. I blame the glass eye.
