Not a Perfect Parent: the One Where Mums Lose the Plot
My Mummy is perfect. Most of the time. At least, I think she is. Which is why, when she’s cross with me – and after my frustration at the injustice of it all has dissipated – I write her little notes to say sorry. It works like magic. I get a hug, she says she’s sorry too, and if I really lay it on her I may even get some apology chocolate. Seriously, Mummy is a moody mare at times. She once (in a good mood) called herself ‘silly old Mummy’. She laughed when we agreed. I tried it again, to …