Daleks, Edith Piaf and my parents

I love my parents deeply, but my relationship with them can be summed up in two conversations held this afternoon:

My Mother

“Hi Mum, how are you? Please may I borrow the Victorian┬ácoral and diamond set for that black tie dinner tomorrow?”

“Of course darling. What are you wearing?”

“Well it is a choice between the light grey strappy dress with a shrug on top or…”

“No darling you can’t wear that.”

“I can’t?”

“No, it makes you look like a dalek.”

“A dalek?”

“Darling you are short and dumpy, long skirts do not suit. What is the other choice?”

“Oh erm… that black 1950s cocktail dress, the thing is it’s velvet and it’s pretty hot.”

“No darling, you can’t wear that either. Makes you look like Edith Piaf. Hardly flattering! You will have to buy something.”

“But it’s tomorrow!”

“Well you have a lunch break don’t you?”

My father

“What are you wearing?”

“It’s a choice of two…”

“Well for God’s sake bring walking shoes. We’ll never get a taxi back to London Bridge at that time.”


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About agirlcalledTom

Well the girl bit is a tad optimistic!
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