My pals and I were having a right old chuckle as Fiona regaled the night of her Aunt Mary’s recent 70th birthday party.

“Since many of her relatives and friends are getting on a bit, Mary thought it would be an ideal opportunity to get everyone she knew together as she hadn’t seen many of them for years,” explained Fiona.

Apparently her 50 invitations included her cousin Donald, whom she hadn’t seen since she attended a family funeral some years ago.

Donald was delighted to receive the invitation and turned up at Airdrie Town Hall, gift in hand, ready to join in the merriment.

Before long Donald got in to the swing of the celebrations and soon he was on the dance floor partying with the other guests.

He didn’t initially recognise anyone, but put it down to the fact that he had been out of touch for a number of years.

Many polite conversations were had, and eventually Donald gave himself a wee break during which time he headed to the buffet.

“Lovely night,” he nodded to one of the other guests.

“Yes it is.”

“I haven’t managed to catch up with the birthday girl yet?” he stated.

“Have you seen Mary about?”

“Mary who?”

“Mary Mc@@@@@.”

Silence

“Sorry I don’t recognise the name,” was the reply.

“Mary.”

He reiterated.

“It’s her big 70th birthday party,” he insisted.

The other guest turned to Donald and explained.

“Sorry, but I think you’re at the wrong party.”

“This is an engagement party for Kirsty and Mark.”

“Are you sure?” Donald questioned.

Turns out Donald was at the wrong venue and after enjoying the buffet, free drink and a wee dance, he discovered he should have been at Mary’s party in a hotel half a mile away.

“He had a good wee night though,” explained Fiona.

“After all, he had two lots of free drink and two buffets!”

This led me to tell of another recent mix up which was on a much grander scale.

Whilst in Spain with my family, we were having a few drinks in the new holiday complex bar when we got chatting to Sandy and Margaret, who looked to be in their early 70s, but were sitting with their faces tripping them.

“You OK?” I dared to ask.

“We’ve just bought one of the flats in the complex,” replied Sandy.

“Wow, that’s exciting,” I enthused.

But their expressions said otherwise.

“We had a really exhausting week doing up our new flat.”

Margaret explained.

“And we only finished last week.”

According to the new owners, after doing the legal part at the lawyers they went straight to the agents and picked up the keys for their newly purchased dream flat.

“We bought the top floor flat 3a in block 2,” explained Sandy as he pointed out of the window.

“We spent a long time ensuring that the workmen did their bit in one week before we left to go home again.”

“That’s a big job,” I suggested

“We had every end of the flat painted and tiled,” Margaret explained.

“And luckily all of our new furniture arrived on time, and me and Sandy managed to build it up it ourselves.”

“We also fitted new curtain rails, curtains, toilet roll holders, towel rails and filled the cupboards with new crockery and cutlery.”

Margaret puffed.

“Oh, sounds like it all went to plan,” I surmised.

But the couple still weren’t smiling.

“We brought pictures from home and filled the flat so that it looked homely for the family coming to stay.”

They both rolled their eyes at each other as Margaret added.

“We even went out and bought flower baskets and hung them outside our windows.”

“Ah, these finishing touches can make all the difference,” I agreed.

“Yes, the place looked amazing when we left,” Sandy sighed.

“We were so chuffed after the hard work we had put in before heading back to Aberdeen that we took lots of pictures to show the family our hard work.”

“Well what’s the problem?” We were all intrigued.

“We were only home three days when we got a call from the agents.”

Sandy took a deep breath and continued.

“Apparently, we were in the WRONG flat!”

“Eh?” I couldn’t see how that was possible.

“Yes, we should be in flat 3a block 3.

“NOT block 2.”

According to Margaret, when the keys to their new flat didn’t fit they assumed the lock was faulty and got a locksmith to change the lock.

And now….. They had returned to remove their belongings and start again in their ‘own’ flat.

Both were still blaming each other as I whispered to my daughter.

“Bloody hell, no wonder their faces were tripping them!”