Poor mumsy: on the last day of her holiday in the States, she managed to fall over and hurt her shoulder seriously enough to warrant a trip to the Emergency Room and a postponement of her journey home. All is well - a fracture of the humerus was diagnosed, she has a sling to support the arm, but every now and then a sudden movement will bring on a wave of pain that stops her dead in her tracks.
We had a little scuffle over how she would get home - Lola II volunteered to take time off work or suggested a taxi, dad said he would meet her and they would go home on the underground, but I bravely fought them off and travelled down to Heathrow to pick her up and drive her home. It's not a competition, but mum definitely loves me the most.
That's quite a lot of excitement for one day, but there is more. Mr A is slightly panicky, finishing an Open University maths assignment that is due in tomorrow. Alf arrived this morning to install and paint the door he has built for us. Just in time, too - as I was unlocking the old door so it could be replaced, one of the locks fell off completely. Mr A's van needs some work done so it will pass its MOT test, and one of the headlight lenses on my car has been cracked for quite a while, and is now broken (we suspect with the help of some vandal). It's booked in to be replaced on Monday.
Meanwhile I'm in London, and with both parents asleep I have the run of the house. I may make chicken soup. Lola II is due to visit later on, but I not only brought mum back from the airport, I also adjusted the clocks in mum and dad's car to read the correct time, AND changed the readout back to mph after dad had accidentally changed it to kph and couldn't change it back. Not that it's a competition or anything.