I am currently sat in the living room with my parents. Current conversation is as follows:

Mam: You ate my cheese you bastard. You bloody ate all of it didn’t you?

Dad: I didn’t touch your cheese. I haven’t eaten cheese in two weeks.

Mam: You bloody liar, swear on the bible go on?!!

Dad: I didn’t eat your cheese.  For gods sake you watch me like a hawk. Right What goodies did you get?

Shuffle of Tesco’s bags and much bickering commences.

Mam: (with paper and pen in hand) Right, you want the steaks that’s £3 and you are having all the hams that’s £4……

Dad: (looking at me for support) She’s done the bill now she is adding on to it!!!

Mam: well I paid £3.33 for those yogurts and there was bugger all money off them

Dad: Are you going to give me change from this tenner??

Mam: 1p off, look at all those bloody steaks you got?!!

Dad: yeah but I’m trying to diet really….

Mam: Steak is dieting.

You see my parents have now reached that point in every loving relationship. After 45 years of marriage there comes a point where the only way forward from here is…..Separate food. Yes that’s right, you want cheese? You buy your own. Ham? Yep that too. Butter? Don’t even think about having one slither of my butter. Oh and don’t get me started on the bacon.

I lost my mother today for a total of 4 hours. After dropping me off at the doctors the plan was that she would park by Lidl and wait for me. Speaking to the receptionist at my doctor’s surgery, I was advised that I would need some form of ID. Being the logical, well prepared person that I am, I searched my pockets to find nothing. I did not bring my purse, money, phone or any form of ID. Although I did manage to bring a pen and cello tape. Yes obviously extremely relevant in this situation. Tail between my legs I left to find my mother and prepared myself for a stern mouthful for wasting time and petrol. But she was nowhere to be found. Wandering the car park for an hour and getting strange looks from staff opening up their shops for the day, I resorted to a taxi. Arriving at the house I banged on the door and hurried my recently awoken Dad for a tenner to pay the taxi. Expressing my concern for my mother, my dad drives me back into town. He drops me back at the doctors and tells me he will drive down to the car park and look for her. ‘Tell her to come to the doctors’ I said before he drove off. Five minute later I receive a message on my mobile which I had managed to pick up from home, saying that my mother is nowhere to be seen. By now, my panic is in over drive. My Dad drives back to the retail car park so we can continue the search of my lost mother.

Three and a half hours have now passed. My dad then chooses this opportune moment to give me multiple heart attacks by saying my mother has obviously been kidnapped. ‘Yes that is what happened. There is no other logical explanation for both her and her car going missing. She must have been having a cigarette and some one forced her to drive them somewhere. She must have been dumped somewhere. That fucking scum. If they have done something to her they are the lowest of the low…..’ And on and on this went before I was silently bawling thinking I can’t go to another funeral. I only went to one yesterday. Oh my God she’s gone, what am I going to do??!! Then my sister and her partner join us in the search, also getting the police involved as it is ‘completely out of character’ for my mother to just disappear. 4 hours later and a police man advises that they have found her…..In the other car park…….Outside carpet world……All that time she had been sitting in the wrong car park.

Suppose everyone needs carpet. Sigh.


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