This morning mum thought I’d suffered a fatal heart attack and died. All I’d done was sleep through my alarm because the volume was too low. She crept into the bedroom and scared me awake, nearly giving me a fatal heart attack.
To be fair, she is right when she says that I am always up at the same time every day (and sometimes earlier) and there was no noise coming from the bedroom. Still, I assured her I wasn’t dead and went and had my morning coffee.
I may as well have stayed in bed as it was a dismal, dank and drippy day. The sort of day that made mum decide to move to Oz 55 years ago.
Mind you, it’s not very cold. I reckon that’s worse. Mild and wet. Not my cup of tea at all.
We still went into town to shop. Mum wanted a dictaphone so she can keep a verbal diary so I took her to Argos then to Robert Dyas so she could enjoy walking down Downing Street.
Back at home it was all housework and finishing yesterday’s casserole…always lovely the second day.
Eventually we both just went to bed. Work tomorrow for me while mum is off to visit with Jackie again.
Hilarious – I don’t think either of you should be creeping up on the other or I’ll come home and find you both dead of a heart attack