I WAS once likened to Madonna. No laughing at the back, please.

It was my cocky 17-year-old son who said, just as I was about to leave the house for a night out: “Wow! Mum you look just like Blobonna – a chunky Madonna.”

If I’d had a cape I’d have lassoed him with it and dragged him down the cellar steps.

The thing is, I’ve always admired Madonna. Not for her music, naturally, but for her powers of transformation and for possessing toned thighs that make even a 20-year-old grind her teeth.

Regardless of what you think of her, she still looks mighty fine, particularly for a woman in her autumn years. Hotpants, heels and fishnets is not a look I could ever rock, even if I was two stone lighter and an Ashtanga aficionado. My partner would think it was his birthday. My kids would have me committed.

Madonna clearly believes in growing old disgracefully. Don’t we all. And in that aspect she’s a role model for the post-menopausers with her army of interchangeable young male partners.

But I fear the “sexy at almost 60” bubble is unceremoniously deflating following an on-stage incident with the rapper Drake.

After belting out Express Yourself to him at Coachella on Sunday night, Madonna pulled the 28-year-old singer back to snog (do I need to translate that for the under 40s?) him for at least three seconds...not that I was counting. If it had gone on for any longer, she’d have swallowed his head.

What the 56-year-old mother-of-four didn’t see was that when she was finished, the musician looked like he was about to heave and wiped his mouth with the ferocity of someone who had been French kissed by a randy mountain goat.

It took me back hundreds of years to that excruciating first kiss in St Bernadette’s disco when I was left with drool dripping off my chin and lip lacerations from Tommy Mullaney’s brace. But at least we were both 16.

Falling down the steps at the Brits is nothing compared to the shame Madonna must be feeling at being so publicly rejected by a hot young rapper. At least when she kissed Britney on-stage, she pretended to like it.

I never thought I’d say this, but it’s time M got a grip. She needs to realise the inexhaustible supply of young men who are happy to hang on her arm may have less to do with her sex appeal and more to do with career advancement.

After Coachella, I’d be wondering if my young male admirers were really just material boys.