Well, when I was a kid, I used to visit this old lady called Maude.
Bloody hell! Come to think of it, I was only about nine, and I would cycle eight miles to visit her on quite busy roads because of some school thing, where you adopted an old fart of some description.
Anyhow, my old fart was called Maude.
She wore extremly big pants, which she would casually rinse through the cold tap, and then put before the fire to dry.
Naturally, the resultant steam in a small, 19th C cottage stank of piss.
Hence my problem with Maude.