Mum’s the best, quirks and all

My mum is often teased about her affection for labelling everything in sight. She peaked a few years ago when she organised her husband’s wardrobe and labelled his shelves of sorted clothes: Very Best Permission Required, Best, House, Farm/Forest, Please Yourself.

Part self-deprecating joke, part life lesson - no-one should wear their best clothes out on the farm, after all, or Please Themselves when they should actually Seek Permission - her easy-to-read, ex-primary school teacher writing also shows up on gifts (“Minh’s Magical Maths Box”), and the bottom of casserole dishes in black vivid (“I want this back, Emma”).

It probably started as an efficient housekeeping system (if you label things, maybe people will stop asking you where is every last tape measure, Lego piece, and hairbrush with the very close bristles that makes my hair very straight). But it has, over the years, become my mother’s very sweet way of making sure we won’t forget her or her wisdom when she’s gone. On the back of every never-returned piece of cookware, there she is, reminding me to do the right thing.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the mums and mother figures.