Another five of Roseys adventures!

Rosey has a bonfire 
Rosey recently felt the need to clear out her kitchen cupboards. She often had these urges after a glass of wine or three! Rummaging through the piles of out-of-date packages and bags she came across a shelf crammed with canned food which she felt was surplice to requirements. An hour later she had amassed a considerable amount of rubbish – too much to cram into her diminutive garbage bin. The obvious solution was a bonfire! So after setting alight a pile of paper and wood she placed the kitchen rubbish amid the flames then retired to her newly emptied kitchen for a celebratory libation.
      As she relaxed glass in hand, she was suddenly jolted to her senses by what sounded like rapid gunfire! Rushing outside to see what was happening she found herself gazing in amazement at the side of her house which was completely plastered with baked beans, sliced peaches and marrowfat peas!
A trip to Belgium
A few weeks ago we were in Belgium on a long weekend break. Well, the choice of beers there is legendary. The bar we were in offered 150 different brews, all produced in this one small country. We had one particular beer that looked fantastic in the glass, but once in the mouth had an indescribably acrid taste. A few sips later however we were hooked! It also had the strange effect of turning us all an alarming shade of red! But that’s not all it did to Rosey! It went straight to her head!
Anyway, she suddenly became aware of an urgent need for a lavatorial facility! She needed a loo and she needed it straight away! Unfortunately, access to the ladies room required the unfortunate girl to negotiate a flight of steps! Being somewhat unsteady on her legs she decided that the best way to tackle the stairs was on hands and knees! What she didn’t know however was that on the first floor was the restaurant. Unable to stagger to her feet she had no choice but to continue her journey to the toilet on all fours weaving between tables of startled onlookers!Sometime later she came wobbling back to our table displaying a somewhat oddly shaped frontal area! Diving down the top of her blouse she commenced pulling out no less than 9 bread rolls which she had helped herself to on the way back!
‘lez av anuver dwink’ she said then slithered down the wall and fell asleep on the floor like a discarded doll.
The things she says!
Poor Rosey! Everyone takes advantage of her unquestioning naivety!.We were all in the pub a few nights ago, about six of us, and Rosey sneezed. Well, a couple of us said ‘bless you’, as you do. Rosey said ‘thank you’. I told her that she shouldn’t say thank you because every time she did, a fairy would die. She looked at me, and then looked around the table at everyone else. ‘You are teasing me’ she said. ‘Is that really true?’..
Not long ago she was telling us that we all needed to ‘think green’ for the sake of the planet. I told her that I had just bought a charity wrist band in aid of the 'Save the Rubber Tree' charity! She liked that.
Anyway, she said that she thought we should have wind farms on every hill top. Actually, she called them propellers, but we knew what she meant! Then someone said to her that if we built too many it would turn Britain into an enormous hovercraft that would begin sailing off across the Atlantic towards America!.In her normal fashion, her brow became furrowed. You could hear her thinking. Her mouth opened, then it closed. Then it opened and broke into a grin. Not being quite sure what to say, she suggested we all have another drink!
You are not supposed to swallow it!
Another time several of us were sitting around in her flat. She took a bubble pack from her bag and popped out a huge tablet which she put in her mouth. Despite several large gulps of wine it refused to go down, so she started chewing it..Moments later she started foaming at the mouth! Like a human volcano! The more she tried washing it down the worse it got – green foam everywhere..My friend asked what it was she had taken and she said quietly ‘a tablet the doctor gave me because I have thrush’. My friend then asked to see the pack. ‘You are supposed to insert them not swallow them’ she pointed out!
Don’t you just love her? 
Washing up!
Rosey offered to help me wash up in the pub kitchen the other night. We had been busy, and I was tired, so I took her up on her offer. With just a few pots and pans to go, I left her to it, and drove home.
The next morning I needed a couple of roasting dishes but I couldn’t find them. I assumed Rosey had put them away in the wrong place, and so I used some alternative receptacles.
 Midway through the lunchtime session, I received a message from the bar telling me that our next door neighbour needed to see me. I duly went out to meet her, and there she was, holding in her arms two saucepans and the two roasting dishes I was searching for earlier! 
 She told me that when she went out into her garden that morning, she had found them in her flower beds!
Rosey popped in for a drink an hour or so later. She was nursing a bit of a hangover. I told her about the neighbour and my pans, and at first she laughed. Then it slowly dawned on her. Her smile changed into a guilty grin. The sweet one she always adopts when she thinks she may be in trouble.The previous night began to play over in her head.
She remembered spotting my cooking wine and she thought she would sample a drop. After all, what harm would that do? She liked it. She liked it very much. Too much in fact! She had a little more, and a little more!
And then she looked at those remaining dirty pots and pans swimming around before her , and decided the quickest way to deal with them would be to throw them out of the window and over next door’s hedge!'It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now in the cold painful light of the day, she realised that Rosey had struck again!
Rosey and childbirthOne of our group of friends is pregnant. I fact she’s expecting her little girl in four weeks time. She’ll be called Poppy!
We were sitting around a table in the pub listening to Stacey. The girls seemed fascinated by her stories of morning sickness and piles. We guys decided to talk football in an effort to avoid hearing the gruesome details of late pregnancy.
Rosey wasn’t sure what to make of it. She adopted a slightly sour expression, and physically recoiled when listening to detailed accounts of unpleasant discharges and flatulence.
Conversation then turned to the birth process. Stacey had been there before but none of the other ladies had. The girl-talk was punctuated by ‘eeoos’ and ‘yucks’. Every now and again Rosey squeeked! The bloke’s conversation changed to rugby!
Stacey told them that a friend of hers didn’t believe that the umbilical cord was sealed with a clamp after severing. She thought it was tied in a knot. If the knot was too loose, it caused a sticky-out belly button! They fell about with laughter – except Rosey looked confused. ‘But they do tie it, don’t they?’ she asked.
This was too good an opportunity to miss! I said to her ‘Of course it’s tied Rosey. Before she does it the nurse pinches the end of the cord, and if the baby is a little chubby with big round cheeks, she releases a little air like letting down a balloon. A good nurse can even play a tune!’ Then the familiar chain of thought started. ‘Really? – I thought I was right. Why are you all smiling? Are you teasing me again? You are you bastards!’ Then she collapsed in fits of giggles and I knew I was forgiven!
  It’s at times like this that Rosey returns one of her old habits! Smoking. She used to get through 20 a day, but she decided to cut right down. It wasn’t the dire warnings of premature death that caused her to re-evaluate her habit. Nor the cost, nor even the fact that since the smoking ban she needed to stand out in the street when she needed a fix of nicotine. No, she cut down when one of us told her that her fingers and her fringe would turn yellow if she continued. While she stood outside in a cloud of smoke, we recalled the time when she stubbed a cigarette out in what she assumed was a dish of potpourri crystals left on the bar for that very purpose. A second or two later she turned crimson when she saw someone dipping their fingers in the dish and placing some of the stuff in their mouth. It was then she realised that it wasn’t a fragrant ash tray after all – it was a dish of dried fruits placed there for the enjoyment of the drinkers! Only Rosey could do that!