Mother received a phone call from one of Father's cousins, wanting to know a bit about the dropped part of the double barrelled name. Mother gave her recollection and also referred to some notes I had sent her.
Ok Mother, I will write to the cousin, and write I did with a brief family history of what I understood about the name.
He called Mother back after the receipt of the letter. Mother didn't answer and he left a message. Mother chopped off the message and did not record his number, yet she commanded me to call him. He must have called again, as Mother left a message for me, for goodness sake, call him and stop him calling me.
Well, I wrote to him. It is like the email thing with a friend that I wrote about recently. Why didn't he just write back to me? If I wanted to speak on the phone to my late father's cousin, then I would have rang him.
I was prepared to let it drift, until Mother's rate notice arrived by mail. Her children have agreed to pay her council rates. The rate notice arrives quarterly and in order of birth, each of us pay our share. We received our own rate notice, so I knew Mother's was coming. I forewarned her, it is Sister's turn. Post it directly to her please. What did she do? Post it to me, to pass on to Sister. Aww, your sister was so generous on Mother's Day with her hundred dollar cash gift. She will get cross with me asking for more money. Mother apparently forgets that I also gave her one hundred dollars.
All quite unnecessary as we children agreed to pay her private health insurance, a major appliance that breaks down and needs replacing and her council rates. It is not a matter of Mother asking us. All she needs to do is send the rate notice to the appropriate person. That Sister forgets about Mother's rates arrangement and moans to me is irrelevant. I have it in writing.
So, I posted on Mother's rate notice to Sister with a bitchy note. I called Father's cousin and an interesting conversation we had.
Meanwhile, Mother has been popped into the freezer for a bit. Petty? Yes. Satisfying? Yes. As R says to me, your mother is terribly naughty.
Look, here is mother a week ago on Mother's Day in her old lady cardy. Butter wouldn't melt in her mouth would it? The poor old pensioner who's children have to supplement her income while we wait for her to decide that she can no longer afford the upkeep on her house or the luxury of feeding stray cats milk that costs more than human milk, for the consumption of.
I feel better now.