Angus Broon of Glasgow, Scotland, comes to the little lady of the house exclaiming, "Maggie, cud ya be sewin' on a wee button that's come off of me fly? I cannae button me pants."
"Oh Angus, I've got me hands in the dishpan, go up the stairs and see if Mrs. MacDonald could be helpin ya with it."
About 5 minutes later, there's a terrible crash, a bang, a bit of
yelling and the sound of a body falling down the stairs.
Walking back in the door with a blackened eye and a bloody nose comes Angus. The little lady looks at him and says, "My god, what happened to ye? Did you ask her like I told you?"
"Aye," says Angus. "I asked her to sew on the wee button, an she did, everything was goin' fine but when she bent doon to bite off the wee thread, Mr MacDonald walked in."
"Oh Angus, I've got me hands in the dishpan, go up the stairs and see if Mrs. MacDonald could be helpin ya with it."
About 5 minutes later, there's a terrible crash, a bang, a bit of
yelling and the sound of a body falling down the stairs.
Walking back in the door with a blackened eye and a bloody nose comes Angus. The little lady looks at him and says, "My god, what happened to ye? Did you ask her like I told you?"
"Aye," says Angus. "I asked her to sew on the wee button, an she did, everything was goin' fine but when she bent doon to bite off the wee thread, Mr MacDonald walked in."
