I was recently sitting in the park in my lunch hour, eating a pot of yoghurt, when this enormous hairy thing with six legs plonked itself down next to me. Naturally, I screamed and fled. Once I had recovered my wits I thought no more about the incident. However, I have now developed an allergy to yoghurt and the park really scares me.
Margery
Dear Marge
Dear Marge
I think the reason for your problem lies in the trauma of your infantile experiences. However, conventional psychotherapy would probably take too long, so I have an alternative idea: Volunteer your services to your nearest zoo and work in their creepy crawly house, if they have one. As for yoghurt, try the corner ones with the delicious fruit sauce or crispy bits. They will win you over. Allergy schmallergy!
Auntie
Dear Auntie T
This is really a warning to other gap year travellers: Before I went to Uni, I saw an ad offering work experience in the Czech Republic. Of course the money was atrocious but I love winter sports and I knew that the there would be plenty of deep, crisp snow lying round, so I signed on. It was perfect. One night, however, I saw an old bloke pinching our firewood and I alerted my boss, old Wenceslas. To my amazement, instead of giving the old tramp a b******ing, he forced me to go with him, gathering armfuls of logs to give to this tramp. My hands and feet were frozen and I wanted to go indoors. But Mr W. refused to let me and had this weird idea that I should simply step into his footsteps to keep warm. It was really spooky!
Benedict
Dear Benedict
Thank you for your timely warning. I guess it is just a question of remembering the old adage Autres pays autres moeurs - other countries, other customs.
Aunt Taragony
