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| Mother, with the tellers of coarse jokes. 1962 |
Mothers are fascinating really. I actually love my mother, and I'm sure she loves me. I take great pleasure in just observing her - for example, it's sweet seeing her and Dad together - I mean, they've been married for nearly thirty years and Dad has been clicking his false teeth for at least ten of those years, but Mum still seems to be fond of him.
What I really love doing is watching Mother when my elder brothers get together. They tell rather coarse jokes* and Mother sits in the corner trying to look stern and doing her best not to laugh. It's surprising how Mum changes when the older family is at home. I think she has given up trying to make them all respectable citizens, because they have left home. Unfortunately, when I am the only child at home, Mum thinks there is still hope. (There isn't.)
I don't know whether all mothers get soft in their old age; it's hard to tell. Sometimes I believe mum is getting positively modern, but it is a hard idea to get used to. She is thoroughly suspicious of new-fangled gadgets, or so she says, but it's my belief that if left in a "model" kitchen complete with a Ralta Kitchen Wizz, Mother would have a ball. Sometimes she almost plucks up the courage to buy a dishwasher (apart from me) but then - the fatal question - where will I put it? Of course no-one can ever answer... and so it goes on.
Mother can be extremely witty sometimes, frequently through no fault of her own. For example - Mother brought a very nice and hugely overpriced raincoat for herself. One rainy day I met her in town - she was wearing her old and tatty raincoat!! So I asked, foolishly, "Why aren't you wearing your new raincoat?"
Mum replied, "Good heavens, dear, I wouldn't take it out in weather like this!"
Well, I ask you. What sort of logic is that?
* phone me. I haven't forgotten them...
