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Off to see the 'rents again on Friday.
Which would usually be wonderful, but I went to see them about a month ago and it caused a big family furore. I was the catalyst, not a participant, but it made me super-wary.
It hurt me so badly I swore in my head that I would never go back to Aylesbury again, ever.
But that was an immediate knee-jerk (and jerkish) response.
Mum said if I didn't come down, she would come up here, and she is SO not allowed to at the moment - she had foot surgery after her trip up here (scheduled, not because of it!) and is still on sticks.
She wants to see me. She's worried because of the delay in my hospital admission. She's concerned enough to put her own health in danger. I cannot stand against that, even though I regularly tell her I'm fine. Trouble is, she listens to the tone and the phrasing and notes when I can't answer the phone and draws her own conclusions.
So I'm off for the Bank Holiday weekend. Well, not totally. The boy needs to be considered. It'll be a dawn start one day and a late night return another.
And I admit, although I have in no way engineered this, and in fact tried to sublimate it, I can't wait to see them again.
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