Eroticdreambattle

Q: What's that little raggedy thing hanging in the air over the garage?

A: It's a pigeon flying into the wind and not making any headway. There, see, it's given up- and the wind has carried it off.

The bad weather's back. Yesterday was bright and frosty. Today we have wind and rain. The papers are printing the now traditional image of Tewkesbury Abbey sitting on its temporary island.

My mother says she's never seen Mary Poppins. I pretend to be surprised but I'm not. She sleeps through movies. Always has done. And she can't stand popular music- not even the music of her youth.

 "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...