| fuss factor | menu | mood | shopping list | bite marks |
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mood: mum's the word sight: a perfectly set table. cutlery and glassware all gleaming sound: whatever music she wants; whether it's dean martin or jimi hendrix taste: the sweetness of the bacon and balsamic infused currants in the stuffing against the bitter salad greens smell: the instant nostalgia drenched aroma of roasting chicken touch: nobody hugs you like your mum
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it's your mother: just clean the house, set the table and tidy up your underwear drawer! (but leave one thing undone) my mother always wanted me to grow up to be independent, then when I did, she was pissed off she felt obsoleted so I learnt to leave my ironing out when she came over not so that she'd do it for me, just to make her feel that I wasn't quite coping without her
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