Eee! Worra laff me an' my mate Dave had th' utha day. Ah woz sirrin in me aamchair lukkin' doon th' path when ah seed 'im comin' in me gate.

By th' time 'e got ti me door, ah was deein' worrad been deein' forra cuppla days. Scratchin' like a ba, ah mean scratchin' like owt. Ah've nairly weared grooves in me heed.

"Wot's wrang wi ye?" e' says. "Hev yi got lops, like?" Ah says, "ah hev. Lukka this."

An' ah gets a Northin' Necko wot woz lyin' handy an' spreads it oot. Then ah scratched me heed ower it. It cudda dun wi' bein' a bit bigga cos a lorrof th' lops went on th' mat.

Dave gorron e's knees and had a luk an' sed, "Thems aall deed, them is. The's norra one moovin. Yi mustiv squeshed them aall wi scratchin' an that."

Then e' had a berrer luk an' sed, "how, man. Thems not lops. That's sand. Where've yi gettin' that from?"

Whi, ah nearly fell ower ah woz laffin' that haard! Me and the bairn had been doon that Seaton Canoe, laarkin' aboot in th' sand a week afore! An ah thowt ah woz infesticated!!

Ah put me fine tooth comb in me pockit then wi got the mota bikes oot an' had a ride ower ti Seaton so's ah cud comb me hair on the beach.

Ah divven't waant ti be gerrin wrang fo' pinchin' anybodys sand at my age.

Ta-ra.

JR