"Oh," she says, reading the opening credits. "Walt Disney!"
"Yes," I say.
"Is it good?"
"It depends on your taste." Of course I know she'll hate it but I'm in a scratchy mood and tired of wildlife shows and auctions. I'm going to make her watch the first five minutes.
Dick Van Dyke sings a song. Poor man, it was cruel not to get him some help with his accent. Glynis Johns sings a song. David Tomlinson sings a song.
My mother is getting angry. "I don't know what's going on," she says. "Who are these people? It doesn't make any sense."
I take pity. She's suffered enough. "You don't have to watch." I say.
She switches channels. Up comes David Attenborough.
And life returns to normal...