I am still sneezing and my brother-in-law is still telling jokes; on the basis that you would, undoubtedly, prefer to hear a joke than to have detailed health updates, I shall tell you about the vicar’s new teeth.

The vicar’s new set of false teeth proved to be particularly uncomfortable at first, so much so that the poor man found it impossible to give his Sunday sermon the usual hour and a half, which the parishioners had come to expect. They were amazed, and somewhat pleased, that the vicar rounded off his short discourse after only five minutes.

On the following Sunday the vicar was still having difficulties with his teeth but the swelling of his gums had subsided a little and he was able to persevere and give a sermon of twelve minutes and thirty seconds duration. Unaware of the vicar’s new teeth, and the problems he was having with them, the congregation were perplexed as to the reason for their vicar’s change in style and length of delivery of his sermons.

A week later the vicar was back to his usual form, and moreso. He talked incessantly; he appeared not to pause even to take breath; after three exhausting hours the verger, taking pity on the congregation, and fearing that there was something amiss with the vicar, discreetly found Mr Wilson (one of the ushers) and together they approached the pulpit and led the vicar away. The congregation marvelled at the strange events. One person whispered rather loudly for the benefit of all, “That must have been the longest sentence in history!” and a titter went around the church.

A week on the vicar, who was an earnest man, thought he ought to explain his odd behaviour to his flock:

“Please accept my apologies for the peculiar sermons of late, he began, “You see, I was rather shy to tell you that I have recently had to come to terms with wearing false teeth, which were difficult to get used to as well as being very painful – hence the uncommonly short sermons…”

“What about last week?” someone (probably the same one who mentioned the “longest sentence in history”) called out from the back rows.

“Oh yes, that,” said the vicar, “I’m afraid I was in such a hurry that morning that I didn’t notice, and popped in the wrong set inadvertently – they were my wife’s!”

Obviously, this is a man’s joke. Sorry girls.