Listen, I have asked Vanetta to pop round after school for a playdate with the Little Boom. That ok?
The Good Lady asked in that way of ladies who ask things but never require a question mark.
Vanetta... Which one's that, the one with the blonde hair?
I asked with a desperate twinge of hope as I fiddled absent-mindedly with one of my guitars.
No, it's not her. I don't think you have met Vanetta. Anyway, she seemed a bit down so I thought I would get her over for a coffee and a chat and see if I could lend her a shoulder.
Thie Good Lady tried her best not to look over-saintly despite the appearance of a halo and the faint outline of wings materialising around her.
I harrumphed. Damn, it wasn't the blonde one, how come it's never the blonde one? Then I brightened.
So, we need to cheer her up a bit eh? Perhaps we could get her upstairs for a bit of a shag? That will brighten her day surely?
I made a deep MOHOHOHOWHAAAR noise and grinned happily at the Good Lady. I was never one to turn down a random shag. Especially with someone who was feeling down. Nothing puts a spring in your step quite like shagging someone who is a bit down.
Also, what better way to lift the spirits than to have a bit of Boom inside you?
Oh god, here we go... No, we are not shagging her. There will be no shagging. I am inviting her around for a cup of coffee and a natter. The kids are having a playdate. What are you like?
She tutted and shook her head.
I pfftt'd lightly as if I were being asked to sing about the crawdads in the creek again.
So, no shagging?
No.
Hmm, no talking about shagging then either I presume?
Definitely no talking about shagging. Keep it clean.
I huffed with resignation. Like a tall man on a budget aeroplane boarding and seeing his seat.
What about vaginismus, surely I can drop that in the conversation?
I didn't play the vaginismus trump card lightly but needs must as they say.
What the hell is vaginismus!?!
The Good Lady sputtered with visible annoyance at me no doubt for not taking this charity coffee chat thing with a random parent seriously.
Oh, don't worry about that, it's fear of a dog's penis or something.
Airily, I waved her concerns aside.
She cocked her head to the side and looked at me long and hard.
I don't think it is. Whatever it is though, no talking about vaginismus either. Just keep it clean and funny. You are good at being funny!
She smiled as if a stray compliment might lure me off the path of shagdom.
I clucked my tongue and thought for a moment.
And you don't think she might want to watch us have a bit of a shaggy McShag?
The chances were slim but I wasn't called tenacious for nothing.
The Good Lady raised her eyes heavenward and then took a deep breath.
If you say the word 'shag' one more time you won't be seeing or having one any time soon...
She stared at me in the same way that Michael Flatley would at a truther asking him to come clean about the leprechauns.
Oh all right then. I suppose I will remain unshagged for now.
I sighed and put my guitar down wearily.
One day. One day my time will come again...
