Mother's Day debt remains unpaid
Neil HaversonI reckon Brat Minor owes me at least �30. Well, over the years he owes me a heck of a lot more than that but I'm talking only about Mother's Day. I watched with interest last Sunday to see what he would produce for Mrs H, remembering that when he was young I would remind both him and his sister that they needed to save their pocket money to buy their cherished mum a gift.Neil Haverson
I reckon Brat Minor owes me at least �30. Well, over the years he owes me a heck of a lot more than that but I'm talking only about Mother's Day. I watched with interest last Sunday to see what he would produce for Mrs H, remembering that when he was young I would remind both him and his sister that they needed to save their pocket money to buy their cherished mum a gift.
And to make life easier I volunteered to take them to the shops or, if they gave me the money, I would make the purchase for them.
Brat Major was quite good. She would generally come up with an idea. Granted occasionally I would have to offer a sub when her finances were low but she always paid me back.
Now Brat Minor, well, what he did with his pocket money remains a mystery to this day. He always claimed he was penniless but we rarely saw him spend anything.
When it came to buying presents, he seemed to think that if he put off the evil hour long enough it would all go away.
A couple of days before Mother's Day, I would give him a final reminder. At this late stage he would panic and dispatch me to buy a box of chocolates. I would, of course, be reimbursed as soon as his cash flow eased. Oh and while I was at it, could I get a suitable card too.
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With tongue in cheek I would buy a card 'from your grateful son' that expressed love for his mother and asserted that she was always in his thoughts. He was too young to appreciate the irony.
Even if I provided wrapping paper he rarely used it, so Mrs H received her chocolates in the bag from whichever shop I had bought them.
In spite of gentle reminders, his Mother's Day debts remain unpaid.
He has improved immeasurably and these days he can usually be relied upon to come up with something imaginative, and he even wraps it.
For Mother's Day this year, Brat Major checked in as usual and I passed on some ideas. Brat Minor remained strangely silent. I didn't remind him, assuming the days of the last minute box of chocolates were long gone.
On the day, both of them put in an appearance at Fortress H. Brat Minor turned up first. He handed over a card - but nothing else.
Brat Major arrived bearing a beautifully wrapped gift and a card. Still no comment from Brat Minor.
'Just so you know,' said Brat Major. 'I'm going out to wash the car in a little while.'
Ah, so what was the main draw of Fortress H, Mother's Day or the power washer?
We sat chatting for quite a while before Brat Major cleaned her car and departed. Mrs H had wanted to go for a Mother's Day walk on the beach but by the time we headed off it was getting late and options for lunch were limited. So on her special day Mrs H found herself being wined and dined on a Panini and a cappuccino in a supermarket caf�.
Then, to give her a really special treat, we stopped at a microbrewery so I could buy some beer. Her hopes rose as we went in a gift shop and Brat Minor spotted something he wanted to buy…for Katherine.
He frisked himself and produced a solitary pound coin. What a surprise, he had no money. He looked appealingly at his mother.
'So on Mother's Day,' Mrs H exclaimed. 'I'm not getting a present but I'm lending you money to buy one for your girlfriend.'
'You will get a present,' Brat Minor responded testily. 'Soon.'
And when it finally arrives, I wonder if it'll be a box of chocolates in a Sainsbury's carrier bag.