It's always interesting visiting my old mum. I get to catch up on all the things I've been doing of which I'd otherwise be totally unaware.
The £1m she told me about last time has had another half million added to it. This is compensation for my having to bear the indignity of being wrapped in chains and having all my clothes torn each time I go to visit her. Luckily, all of this money is in a bank and two signatures are required to get at it - hers and mine. One benefit of this is that Tony Blair has abandoned his attempt to marry my mum, because he cannot get his hands on the loot, and has married someone else.
I guess I should also find myself in the Births, Deaths and Marriages column, because I'm now married with a baby. This came as something of a surprise to me. It will come as an even greater surprise to Patsy123, whose baby it is, and who is now going by the name of Lulu.
It was my mum's turn to be surprised to learn how improbable this is, due to our both being 57. She thought we were only 40.
As I was leaving, one of the nurses asked, "Did you see the football?"
I shook my head.
"Worra load of rubbish!" she said. "They couldn't play football in my front passage!!"
She said nothing of any forthcoming fixtures in her back passage, and I didn't ask.