Bottoms up, with or without underwear
There are those who spend a lifetime trying to lose weight and others trying to gain it; my mother is one of the latter. I have no memory of her being anything but petite and in recent years she has shrunk just that little bit more, which happens as the years pass. “Make sure you eat properly,” I said as I collected her from a friend’s place recently. “I keep eating,” she complained, “but I can’t put on any weight, which has been causing me some problems.”
“What sort of problems?” I asked, suddenly concerned. “Well, I went to the funeral of a friend’s husband recently and afterwards, there was a gathering back at her house. I was standing there enjoying a glass of wine when a friend of mine started looking at me and raising her eyebrow. I thought she was saying hello so I nodded and smiled and took another sip but she kept looking at me with her eyebrow halfway up her forehead. I thought for a moment that she was having some sort of seizure but then she walked towards me. ‘Mrs O!’ she said, glaring at me and then looking down at the floor. ‘What is it?’ I said to her, and then I glanced down and I saw them.” “Saw what?” I asked. “My knickers,” she said. “I’d lost so much weight that they’d fallen down and were sitting around my ankles, and I hadn’t noticed.” I was driving as she said this and came close to leaving the road as I struggled with the image of my 88-yearold mum standing there in her best frock, glass in hand and with her knickers around her ankles. “What did you do?” I said. “Stepped out of them and slipped them in my handbag,” she replied.
“And then what?” I said, regaining control of the car. “I had another drink, of course,” she said.
“Well played, Mother,” I said. “Dad would have been proud.”
“Thank you, son,” she replied.