I can't say I am a fan of roast dinner. I usually think and am told that I am a reasonable cook but producing a turkey dinner complete with pigs in blankets, veg and good roasties is a bit challenging with a smallish oven whilst trying to play host. It's usually at Christmas that I feel the lack of a partner. Or maybe a butler? Someone to do the social stuff while I cook - or cook while I talk?
This Christmas, my dripping past it's sell by date kitchen tap decided to go on strike, necessitating running upstairs to get a bucket of cold water to cool the washing up water. My lovely, elderly, very very deaf dad tries to "help" and I give him the tea towel. I usually spend a while trying to figure out where he's put things, so he gets to pile them on the kitchen table.
Rather deaf and equally lovely mum has forgotten not only her medication (overnight stay) but her hearing aid. I didn't know the television could go up to 42 - or do subtitles! Strictly is not my favourite but hey, they enjoyed it. And that's the point. I wanted them to have a good, warm hearted Christmas and a nice premier inn breakfast with me the next day. Because otherwise I sleep under the Christmas tree, which is not fun. It took me a while to explain the complexities of the premier inn breakfast system but pain chocolate and a full breakfast with coffee refills? Lovely way to start Boxing Day.
They are so tottery. It's tough to watch. I wish I was a more compassionate and gentle person; I can only take so much before I need a break, a book, and another couple of friends with similiar-ish older parents to smirk and swap stories with. It's our way of coping.
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