The Sun Does Not Have His Hat On

It's been a while since I wrote about my parents, and in fact earlier this week, while walking home from the hairdressers (in the pouring rain, I might add, which rendered the lovely man's services quite pointless for the time being) my mother called me.

Mum: Now, I just wanted to discuss the details for your aunt's wedding.

Me: Well, okay. But I can't write anything down right now.


Mum: (cheerily) Oh that's fine!

She proceeded to rattle off a list of a million things to remember and various things I had to yay or nay on.

Me: Mum. It's pissing with rain. I am walking home. I am not currently in possession of pen and paper. I will in all likelihood forget some of this.

Mum: No, you won't! It's all quite simple.


She continued to rattle off more details. At this point, a car about fifty feet ahead of me beeped its horn at the car in front.


Mum: (yelling) WHAT WAS THAT?

Me: A car, Mum.


Mum: WAS IT BEEPING AT YOU?

Me: No, Mum.


Mum: BE CAREFUL ON THE ROADS!

Me: I'm walking on the pavement!


Mum: WELL JUST SEE THAT YOU ARE.

Me: I don't even- (pinching nose)

Mum: YOU KNOW WE WORRY.

Me: Yes, fine, alright.