>

Someone writes:

Many moons ago, I took my late Grandmother out to dinner at (what I then thought) was quite a posh resturant.

At the time, she had two new hips and was failing (85) although still as bright as a button upstairs.

She was also slightly hard of hearing which meant she shouted everything at you.

Anyway, after a nice meal, I paid by credit card. I then rummaged around my pockets for some change- didn’t have any.

So I said “Nan, do you have a couple of pound coins”

Rather loudly she said, “POUND COINS? WHAT DO YOU WANT THEM FOR?”

“To give the waiter a tip” I replied (quite sotto voce as the waiter was nearby)

“TIP?” she bellowed “I’LL GIVE HIM THE TIP OF MY UMBRELLA UP HIS ARSE IF HE’S NOT CAREFUL”