Second Helpings

Sometimes, You Just Have To Laugh ...

Sis and I survived the outing with mother and murder only came to mind a few times. We even managed to acquire another Adventure Game for our evenings together. This one installed with no problems, but as it’s rated at 12+ it will obviously tax our brains. Mother declared she never wants to go to Nottingham again; I’ve lost count of how many times she’s made that statement. I can guarantee in a few weeks time she’ll say...

‘I wouldn’t mind going to Nottingham some time.’

‘But you said you never wanted to go again.’

‘I didn’t, did I? I can’t remember saying that.’

Yesterday sis and I ventured to La La Land where marbles are definitely being lost at a rather rapid rate. On the way I made my dad an appointment at the Opticians for next Friday. I gave him the appointment card which he studied, then announced...

‘This appointment is for last week.’

‘No, it’s for next Friday, the 20th of April.’

‘But it says the 7th on here.’

‘No dad, that’s the year - 07.’

Then sis asked mother what she’d watched on television the night before. Guess what? She couldn’t remember. So she gets out her TV Times magazine and studies the programmes from Thursday night.

‘It says there was a film on. I wouldn’t have minded watching that. I don’t remember seeing it in here last night.’

‘Well are you sure you have the right magazine?’

‘Yes, look Thursday April 19th.’

‘Then it’s not the right one is it? It was the 12th yesterday.’

‘Oh, I must be looking at last weeks then.’

Sis then went upstairs to get her bag ready to go home. I asked her to bring a new jigsaw down for us to start.

‘Any particular one?’ asked sis.

‘Yes, the bluebell woods one. Mum liked that one when I gave her the last batch of puzzles.’ Sis came down, put the new jigsaw on the table and returned to the lounge. Mother then gets up, shuffles into the dining room and returns with the jigsaw.

‘Where’s this jigsaw come from?’

‘I bought it you for Mother’s Day.’

‘I didn’t know it was Mother’s Day. You are kind.’

‘No,it’s not. It was Mother’s Day in March. I bought it you then.’

‘Well, I don’t remember seeing it before.’

We settle down to sort out the corners and sides of the puzzle. Mother announces she’s had a poem on her mind lately, but surprise surprise, she can’t remember what it’s called.

‘What’s that poem about England?’

‘Oh to be in England, now that April’s here?’

‘No, it’s not that one.’

‘If I should die, think only this of me. There is some corner of a foreign field that is forever England?’

‘No, it’s not that one either.’

Pause while mother’s rusty cogs grind.

‘Who’s it by?’ she asks.

‘Well, if you don’t know what it’s called, how the hell do we know?’ Mother then shuffles off to the loo, returning triumphant.

‘I know what it is,’ she announces. ‘Daffodils by William Wordsworth. The next half an hour is spent reciting the poem, which has nothing to do with England, over and over. We then make a cup of tea.

‘What’s that poem called again, I’ve forgotten.’

‘DAFFODILS,’ sis and I yell in unison…

‘And who wrote it?’

It was at this point I felt the need to sing that old Speedy Gonzales theme tune.

‘Laaaaaa…La La La La La La La La,’ Sis choked on her biscuit and kicked me under the table.

Mother’s decided her memory isn’t too good and has asked for a gun for her birthday so she can shoot herself. Temptation is a terrible thing isn’t it?