This morning
we did the big shop.
Thunderthighs
appeared with 2 posh Advent calendars, put them in the trolley saying “I’ll pay
for those.”
On being
asked why he’d bought 2 he replied “I couldn’t decide which one to get.”
The
suggestion he might have bought neither was met with a smile.
When we got
to the till my total came to £49.80.
20p more and
I’d have got £5 off.
So I said “I’ll
pay for those, but you owe me.”
This
afternoon I wanted to send a small package for a sibling’s forthcoming
milestone birthday.
I have a
rotten cold/cough and the weather was what the Welsh call diflas and the Scots
call dreich. Cold, wet, foggy and
generally miserable.
So I
suggested if he took our package of cards up to the Post Office and paid for it
we’d be even.
It took a
bit of nagging and I had to give him full details of what to say to the lady in
the Post Office when she asked what was in it (she always does).
He wasn’t
enthusiastic
“Oh for
goodness sake! It’s for your
auntie! She came up here when you were
born and actually hung around until you arrived.”*
And then
down through the misty corridors of time, from some forty four years ago, I
heard my Mother saying “She’s your only real auntie you know, you should visit.”**
***
*He arrived
10 days past the due date.
** In my
defence the first time I went to visit said auntie she said “Don’t come here
just because your mother says you should.
I know her. You’re always welcome
but I only want you to visit me if and when you want to.”
