A Mother’s Voice

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.”