She isn't my mother ~ the children like to buy her huge quantities of Daffs. This will be done on Saturday whilst she is at college and they will, as usual, be hidden in a bucket of water in the garage, which is full of
ensuring she will not enter. On Sunday the children will produce their hand made cards (already made today and hidden in my office) along with the daffs, which will drip all over her duvet, whilst I struggle up the stairs with a breakfast tray for her that "they" have prepared.
It's a sort of
heirloom tradition here.
Frankly no longer having a Mum I hate every minute of it but one has to put on a brave face for the children because they don't even notice I don't have a Mother anymore ~ I was, presumably, born a father.
