Uist Lady

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It’s a sign of the times. The amount of hot water bottles in our household now outnumbers its occupants. As of this weekend, we have tripled our quota to three.

Our original hottie is blue, ugly and has no cover, but on the other hand does have these superior features: the stopper is attached, so you can’t lose it; it has a hook which folds out to allow you to hang it up neatly. Wait a minute! Whoever has a hottie hanger hook in their cupboard? Show me that sad individual!

But much as I love the original hottie, and have mottled my flesh all over the place by having it far too hot, I couldn’t resist these little chaps when they appeared in our local shop.

Even Mr Mac seemed charmed. He’s a hardened anti-hottie:

Mr Mac: I’ve got a sore back/I feel shivery/I’m freezing etc.

Uistlady: Would you like a hot water bottle?

Mr Mac: No.

It’s like that every time, whereas I run to my hottie at the first twinge of anything.

With Mr Mac now showing cautious interest in the new hotties, I suggested a hot water bottle would be nice at his feet in bed and exacted his agreement to try this out that very night.

For some misguided reason, I thought he might find our original hottie, blue and naked, more manly, so placed it at his feet.

But his brow furrowed as his feet made contact.

‘Why hasn’t mine got a jumper?’he demanded.

I instantly swapped them round so he wouldn’t feel hard done by.

Things went fairly well for a while. He seemed to be getting the hang of resting his feet on the round, warm, comforting mound.

(I’m an over-filler, I don’t care how dangerous this is alleged to be. I abhor a skimpy hottie.)

But the second he switched the light off and settled down, THUMP. With one mighty kick, he summarily ejected his hottie.

For symmetry’s sake, I ejected mine. Thump.

And then I ejected the third one, which I had drawn up amidships. Thump.

This looked like being the new nightly ritual at Mac Lodge.

But things soured next morning when Mr Mac got up, looked around and said, ‘This place looks like an old folk’s home.’

Since then he has been refusing hotties again.

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