Pasta carbonara and salad
Some days just go so strangely that I have to write an account to check that it really did happen.
Mum complained there was nothing on television, so I looked through the listings on my phone and found a programme she always says is one of her favourites.
She puts it on, watches maybe five minutes (at most), then stands up and comes into my room to complain that she has a headache. I make sympathetic noises, and she goes back to the tv.
Two minutes later, she comes back and complains again that her head hurts. I make more sympathetic noises, and she goes back again.
30 seconds or so later, the programme goes to an ad break. Mum comes into my room, complains about her head, then goes out into the garden. She comes back in, asks if I want a coffee, takes my cup into the kitchen, and is back on the sofa before the ad break has ended.
A few minutes later, mum reappears in my bedroom, wanting to look out at the garden. She reminds herself that she was making me a coffee, then goes back into the living room.
A minute or so later, she’s back complaining about her headache and “why hasn’t that nice doctor done anything?” Through somewhat gritted teeth, I explain for the third time in the last hour that he is helping, it’s just that the medication takes time to build up to the required level.
Mum goes back into the living room, complains that the programme she has barely watched is “taking too long”, and huffily turns off the tv.
I make my own coffee.
Five minutes later, mum turns the tv on again. There’s still nothing on.
I spent most of the afternoon trying to sort out the pile of stuff on my sofa, aided by mum’s occasional comments about the mess, which I reminded her was pretty much all of my wordly belongings. “I was only joking,” sniffed mum.
Mum eventually retreated to bed, her headache and stomachache made worse by anxiety over the imminent arrival of ‘my’ cat. Suki has somehow become mine rather than ours, which is fine if it helps mum feel less anxious, but sadly it doesn’t seem to be having that effect. Not that mum is at all anxious, she firmly told me about ten minutes after she told me that she was.
She makes my head spin sometimes, she really does.
After all that tidying – plus dealing with the people who came to fix our door – all done, hopefully, although we won’t know for sure until next time it rains1 – I was completely out of spoons. That’s probably why the carbonara sauce for our pasta ended up more like cheesy scrambled eggs with bits of bacon. Not that that’s at all unpleasant, obviously.
Now it’s tv, with mum getting up to pee every five minutes, and complaining about it even more often.
And if you think I sound fed-up, atm, you’d be absolutely right. Roll on bedtime, and a bit of peace.
- Tomorrow. ↩︎
Is it pineapple sponge today? 