Now, I am certain that anyone who knows me would agree that I am an extremely patient and obliging Megastar. I accept Mum as she is, with her many strange ways (and some of them are very strange) without raising so much as an eyebrow. I do my physio, swallow my meds, I was even okay with them taking my leg. ‘Have it,’ I said. ‘No problem. I’ve got three more.’ But today…. well, today a line was crossed. Today… I can hardly bring myself to say it… today, you’re not going to believe this, she trimmed my bloomers!!! ‘You’re too hot!’ she said. ‘I’m stylish,’ I said. ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ she said (like I’m the one being ridiculous!) ‘You’re far too hot!’ ‘I’m fine!’ I said, but she wasn’t having any of it. ‘You cannot wear bloomers in this heat,’ she said, ‘and especially not with three legs,’ she said. Like rub it in why don’t you!
Well you’d think, wouldn’t you, at the very least, she’d have taken me to a salon. I actually thought she’d maybe arrange for a personal stylist to call at my home. Oh no, she takes out a pair of scissors, and before I could even roll onto my back, she just starts hacking away. I cannot begin to describe the scene of total devastation. My beautiful bloomers all over the lawn. And just in case anyone doesn’t believe me (I grant you it is pretty hard to believe) here’s the photographic evidence.
Suffice to say that Mum and I are no longer on speaking terms.
Better watch out, Elsie! She’ll be coming for you next.
