Moments of madness are a cause for concern

ITHINK my kids are getting worried about me. When I’m in entertaining humour I regale them with my little moments of madness. Like the other day when I was in bed and heard noise on my Velux window and forced my eyes open to see a random cat was staring at me in bed.

To say I was stuck to the bed with fear would be an understatement. He on the other hand was completely unfazed by the sight in front of him.

And then I washed a lightweight long coat and hung it on a hanger on the line to dry and forgot about it. When I went out into the garden the next day I thought somebody was standing in my back garden and I ran back into the house like a lunatic. My eyesight isn’t what it was. Clearly my brain isn’t either.

I wonder if the three of them are having private meetings about my state of mind behind my back. Maybe I should limit my conversations with them. I’m only giving them fodder

They clearly have some concerns and think I’ve turned into an old lady who is incapable of looking after herself because for my recent birthday my son bought me a doorbell that links up to my phone and I can, as a result, watch people approaching my front door. The device records all approaches to the door.

I’m not sure if this is going to freak me out even more when I see some balaclava clad psycho wielding a machete running up my driveway. Nor am I sure what I’m meant to do if I feel threatened. I’m afraid to ask them. I’m detecting a slight exasperation in their sweet little faces when they look at me now. And a patronising tone to their voices. Maybe it’s paranoia. Or maybe all ageing parents feel this way.