Achoo!

The unidentifiable bug has turned into a particularly sneezy, snotty cold which is giving me the chance to get my revenge on those members of society who cough on me on buses and let off fireworks just when I'm trying to get to sleep.

Colds for me necessitate laying in stocks of panty-liners in case a sneeze catches me unwawares in the middle of the street and I have a sudden and unfortunate (though usually minor, I mean 1p sized), attack of stress incontinence. Luckily I haven't reached the Tena Lady stage yet. No doubt I shall, despite all the pelvic floor exercises performed discreetly at the bus stop.

Whilst sneezing my way through today, I remembered how each member of my family had a different sneezing style. My father's sneeze was "AAAAAcher!" My sister's was "Choo!" My mother's sneeze was most distinctive, being a restrained and refined "Ulchoo," the like of which I have never heard before or since. My own is an "aaaaCHOOO!" with an explosion at the end that is no doubt what triggers the aforementioned damp affliction.

Way back in the patchouli-scented mists of time, I used to work with a pretty blonde designer called Clare. As well as her looks and her willowy model's figure, she was distinguished by being the only person I've ever known who had an orgasm each time she sneezed. Maybe this is why her boss, he of the bristly ginger moustache and cavalry twill trousers, took snuff at regular intervals, making sure he blew plenty into the surrounding air.

I wonder what happened to Clare? Did she wear herself out during a 'flu epidemic? If so, I bet she died with a smile on her face. Though I don't think panty-liners had been invented in 1972.