Every fridge magnet tells a story

We have a magnet from Amsterdam on our fridge. It’s of a tall brick house and downstairs, three girls in red and black bras and knickers posture in the window. Above is a sign saying SEX SHOP. On the first floor, a girl with a red bra leans out of the window and on the floor above that are two girls with no bras at all.

This was a present from a friend who, many years ago, went to Amsterdam for a weekend of lust with her new man. Unfortunately she got a terrible tummy bug so no lust was to be had. She spent the entire weekend in the bathroom (or bed), while he explored the city on his own. But the magnet always brings a smile to my face for it reminds me of my mate.

When my nieces were about 4 and 6, they came into the kitchen and inspected the fridge with care but said nothing. Later, we were walking along the road to the beach and I had one by each hand.

‘Flowerpot,’ said the oldest one. ‘What’s a sex shop?’

I thought quickly; what the hell do you say? And I had to get it right: their mother was behind me, snorting with suppressed laughter.

‘It’s a place where you buy – er – bras and knickers,’ I said, sweating profusely.

Well, it was sort of true, and at least it seemed to satisfy them. I wonder though, whether they remember that. Now that they're Advanced Teenagers, I must ask them.