I SUFFERED one of life's embarrassing moments on Wednesday .

I was just thinking how I must try to avoid a wobbly flag near the office when, low and behold, I tripped over the thing and went flying like a ton of bricks face first to the floor.

My handbag, apple juice and specs went flying, but all I could think of was, first, if anyone had seen me and, second, that I had not ripped my trousers.

I jumped up faster than a flea, looked round to see how many passers-by were in the street to have a good laugh, acknowledged a kindly shop assistant's concern that I was alright with the retort "b..... flags" and shuffled into the office to ascertain the damage.

Thankfully there wasn't any except to my pride and a few pits in my palms which had softened the dive.

Last time I did a Pope, (that's kissing the ground), was 20 years ago when I was alighting from a tourist bus on arrival at a Spanish hotel and missed my footing on the steps. Oh the pain of feeling such a fool!