Mums - you gotta love 'em

Lol

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Let's have something a little light hearted for a change. Mum's, we all had one at sometime or another, and whilst we don't always get on they are our mum after all.

My old mum is 84 this year. In her head she's 24. 10 years ago I caught her on the outhouse roof moving pebbles about. She still walks faster and for longer than me or the wife can keep up with, she works in my sister's tea room 4 days a week at the sink washing up and flat refuses to give in to old age and be one of those old dears sleeping the afternoons away in front of some rubbish on the telly.

She's also something of a character. She's awkward, strongly opinionated, bloody minded, openly racist yet easy going, thoughtful, loving to all races and creeds, she really is four seasons in one day.

She also has a vile temper. When I was coming up 7 a woman down the road gave me a clip round the ear. I go in sniffling, tell mum.
"Right" she says picking up the carving knife and marches off. Thing is mum was 8 months pregnant with my younger sister but she cared not a jot. Got this woman up against the wall, knife to her throat and threatened to fillet her if she touched me again.

She did the same with the head of one of the local families, a big fat barrel chested man who thought he ran the street. He banged on the door once threatening me with a hiding for something I hadn't done. This time she never moved a step, merely turned round with a growl and the carving knife in her hand. he ran. literally.

Mum was also something of an embarrassment even then. One day I'm in a scrap with a kid, we'd be about 14, on the green at the local shops. I threw two punches and got a smack in the mouth from my mum barging in to break us up. I got a fat lip off mum and the other guy never landed a punch!

Her dad, Charlie, was a little barrel chested man, like a small silverback, from working all his life in the forge. He was getting on a bit, he had a white stick for his partial vision, his lips were tinged blue from his dodgy heart and his breath sounded like an accordian but he was a rogue who loved life, a Park Drive and a cheeky bet on the slow horses.

One day mum had him in the car and he wanted dropping off at the shops to place a bet.
So mum does what you should never do, she pulled up at a zebra crossing so her old dad could cross easily.

A guy coming down the road behind them does what you should never do - overtake on a crossing.

Mum panics, the old boy is just stepping onto the crossing and she thinks he's going to get run over. Instead of pipping her hooter, which would have made more sense, she tries to give him a nudge with the bumper!

Thing is she was always bloody useless at clutch control and instead of a nudge she sends him flying. First thing to break was his white stick. Then when he landed the matches in his pocket ignited and set his trousers on fire!

A crowd come running up and start berating mum "It's fine" she says "it's my dad!".

Years later she becomes obsessed with buying new settees, usually about 1 a year, leather, some very expensive about £4k, some from DFS, also not cheap.

Anyhoo it gets to settee time so me and the wife draw the family short straw and have to take her to DFS. After 20 minutes we lose her so retire to the coffee room.
3 hours later we track her down to a large leather settee, she's got 4 assistants running round after her, and there she is lost in the corner of this huge settee.

"Allright there mum?" I ask

"Fine love" she replies with a huge grin, "there's enough room on here for me and the dogs (a chihuahua and a yorkie) and 5 Pak**s!".

Mum has worked hard all her life to give us kids the little extras we never would have had otherwise. When we were little she worked in an actual asylum as a cleaner cum carer.
It was hard work with dangerous patients and all sorts of chemicals. As a treat she would bring home any leftover food (untouched of course) still warm from the patients supper. Years later I wrote a small poem in regard of her sacrifices.
Enjoy, or not:

She came in through the back door

I caught Mother fretting,
Poring over her books,
Wondering where all the housekeeping has gone,
And how much more mince can she cook?

Mother tells us she’s getting a job.
This hasn’t happened before!
She’ll give us our tea and leave us with Dad,
And go out at half past four.

Mother works in an asylum,
Cleaning, for we are poor.
Her meagre weekly wages,
Help keep the wolf from the door.

It’s quarter past eight in the evening,
And mum is due home from work!
It’s no fun being in the house with dad,
He can be a bit of a berk!


She comes in through the back door,
Smelling of bleach, and stuff,
We can guess the nature of her work
Has been, less smooth, more rough.

Mother’s brought food from the hospital kitchen,
Deep fried cod. What bliss!
Father eyes it carefully, and asks
“Have the nutters been touching this?”

Now mum’s sat with her feet up,
Having a cup of tea,
I’d go to her for a cuddle,
But she smells a little of wee!

God bless all mothers, because without them we wouldn't be here!
 

Lol

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They're a different species mate, I'll be well knackered t 63 never mind 83!
 
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