Diary Of A Bad Dad

Like most people I only have one mother. So Mother’s Day is quite simple and – as long as I remember to send a card and some flowers –relatively stress free.

Except now I have two mothers and my wife is now also my mother.

Before you start thinking this is a weird Oedipus situation it is of course because I now have to act as the agent for Toddler T, who despite thinking she’s an adult is seemingly incapable of getting a bus to the Queensgate centre and buying her mum a bottle of smelly stuff.

That’s the trouble with toddlers today they don’t pull their weight.

So I bought a card on her behalf and then on Saturday me and TT went shopping.

“We’ll get your mum some over-priced flowers for tomorrow,’’ I told Toddler T as she attempted to extricate herself from the straps of the trolley.

I picked up a couple of bunches of mum’s favourite but then at Toddler T’s insistance some daffodils too.

I can’t see the point ofbuying daffs as we have them in the garden, but TT was determined and as I’d forgotten her raisins I gave in.

Job done I thought. On Sunday I took mum her breakfast in bed... but that’s no big deal I do that every day of her life (it’s harder than it looks pouring milk on a bowl of corn flakes, you know).

But Mrs T was unhappy at the lack of a present.It started as good humoured banter but quickly degenerated into an unseemly squabble. “You’re not MY bloody mother,’’ I reminded her.

I wasn’t helped when Mrs T dug out the packaging and discovered the daffs were buy one get one free. “Where’s the other bunch,’’ she demanded to know. “Oh,I didn’t realise they were on offer, I only picked up one,’’ I replied lamely.

I swear Toddler T was laughing to herself.