One supposes that once the dust has settled on a fabulously funny blunder we can all stop guffawing, stifle our giggling and get a sensible grip… right?

Like when police in Workington called in bomb disposal experts to blow up a “suspiciously” abandoned car, only later to remember they’d parked it there, outside their own station, themselves after its owner had been taken ill.

An oopsie-daisy moment in everybody’s book – not least for those poor officers left blushing from eyebrows to toenails. But a week has passed and we’ve given up on the snickering now… right?

Not entirely. Truth is we’re rather fond of other people’s slip-ups. We laugh till our bellies ache, trying to distract attention from our own many mistakes; hoping we’ll pass as the kind of exemplary individual who never makes any.

Even Barrow police couldn’t resist a chuckling little poke of fun at their apologetic colleagues. They tweeted: “We won’t ever mention this to our eest Cumbrian colleagues. Ever… honestly.”

It’s that old banana skin thing. See someone take a tumble on one and you can bet you won’t be able to resist an initial laugh-out-loud before you offer comfort.

Poor old David Beckham has suffered something similar lately. He who is near to clinching coveted status of national treasure – not yet Maggie Smith, but close – has been caught supposedly angling for a knighthood and swearing in emails.

Oh and there’s that other matter of how he pays his taxes – or not. A complicated spot of bother which doesn’t seem to have done Gary Barlow (not a national treasure, by any stretch) much reputational harm.

Oddly, it’s the swearing that has prompted most hilarity. Mr Nice Guy cussing like a sailor after too much rum?


Anne Pickles Surely not. It’s like discovering Mary Poppins had a job on the side as a pole dancer.

And manoeuvring himself towards a knighthood, in an honours system long ago discredited? Who does that, hmm…?

Let’s be right, when did knights of the realm use coarse language and underhand methods to climb their greasy poles? Correction – when did they not?

Still, things could have been worse for Becks and his global brand. At least no explosives were involved in his banana skin slip and he didn’t have to explain to a sick man that his Vauxhall Corsa was now rather unfortunately singed.

Never mind eh. We’ve had our giggles and now that the dust has settled, we can get back to making our own mistakes, while hoping nobody notices.

With luck, not many will. Without luck – well, that’s anybody’s guess.

Have to say, I feel for those hapless officers in Workington. The embarrassing event is not one they’re likely to forget in a hurry. Dust tends to take a while to settle where the police are concerned – especially in Cumbria.

And no, I wouldn’t say the same could happen to anyone – unlike sending unwise emails to the wrong person, which can and frequently does.

But it is true that the only person who makes no mistakes is the one who does nothing at all.

Life is full of foul-ups. Bad things happen to good, well-meaning people.

If we’re lucky and where there’s not much harm done, we can laugh about them, have our fun and then settle down to getting a grip.

Is anybody really that bothered about a temporary stain on Brand Beckham?

I’d seriously doubt it. But our police are a different matter altogether.

Give them a break. They made a mistake. There’ll probably be more, because they are not the kind of people who do nothing. Thank goodness.

And as for the coppers in Barrow – where mistakes are not unknown – I’d be tempted to add only that, in your boots, I might choose to stick to that promise of never reminding your colleagues of their unfortunate oopsie-daisy day.

Know what I mean…?

It’s like discovering Mary Poppins had a job on the side as a pole dancer.