Mediterranean vegetables and feta with garlic bread

Mum says “my stomach hurts”. I give her the tablets to ease her stomach pain.

Mum says “my back hurts”. I give her the tablets to ease her back pain.

Mum says “it hurts when I go to the loo”. I give her the tablets to ease that kind of pain.

Mum says “why have the doctors given me all these tablets? It’s ridiculous.”

I say nothing.

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Mum says “I’m having that weeing problem again.”

Mum says “aren’t the doctors going to do something?”

I say nothing.

Mum says “do you not care about my problems?”

I say “you’re on the waiting list for more tests”.

Mum says “but it’s been fine all day – I don’t need any tests.”

I say nothing, but sigh internally.

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Mum says “I don’t want to see my friend.”

Mum says “I don’t want to go out.”

Mum says “you’ll stay with me, won’t you?”

Mum says “hello friend, how lovely to see you, shall we go out for a walk?”

I say nothing, although there’s no-one here to hear me anyway.

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Mum says, “I don’t like feta.”

Mum says “don’t cook too much, I’m not hungry.”

Mum serves herself a generous portion, with lots of feta, and says “this is really good.”

I say nothing, knowing that next time I mention feta mum will say “I don’t like it”.

Call it a hunch. 🤷‍♂️