One refuse-s!

My very posh Mum is well and truly on the mend! Jim (my step father) and I, visited Mum tonight in the hospital, taking with us her clothes for tomorrows exit from her hospital bed – and accessories for the clothing.

Course, we got it all wrong! The blouse collar doesn’t quite fit under the sweater I chose – and “Who, darling, wheres sailing shoes with a long skirt?”……..she asked

And EVEN worse, I couldn’t find any of the three million holdalls we all own, so took the choice of 2 outfits to the hospital, in a black bin liner. Even my protestations that it was dark and no-one saw us go in, held any weight with her: she was furious. I was chastised and Jim stayed silent………..

Tomorrow, we journey back to the Royal Artemis in Paphos, in convoy and with an array of holdalls bearing umpteen other outfits. I’ll run into the ward; describe the goodies and request permission to combine the choice of clothing with a chosen holdall – surely that will get her vote?

New hip is one thing but new attitude?……As she tells me, “We are British , Darling: we have standards”………..and there is no more slipping in our family, ever!!