An old man of Glasgow, Scotland, comes to the little old lady of the house exclaiming.
“Maggie, cud ya be sewin on a wee button that’s come off of me fly? I can’t button me pants.”
“Oh Angus, I’ve got me hands in the dishpan, go next door and see if Mrs. MacDonald could be helping 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 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 ya? 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.”