Deep breathing

David is at a big meeting in Tunbridge Wells and is coming home via Sevenoaks where he will be collecting his mother. She's staying for the weekend. Which is why I've been sulking since yesterday lunchtime when he first mentioned it to me. Of course, when he rang her last night he'd barely got the words "Mum, did you want to come and st......" out of his mouth before she accepted. I heard her scream "yeeeesssssss!" from my position over by the dishwasher.

So now I've got to work out how to keep my mother-in-law occupied for the next two and a bit days. I've already informed her sometime paramour, Jack Next Door, and secured her a ride home in his car. At about 5pm on Sunday. Oh, and he's taking her out to dinner on Saturday night. "Just do what you had planned to do anyway" David advised. Easy for him to say - he's doing what he planned to do on Sunday, a game of golf with Matthew. "We'll be back at about three!" he said in an injured tone of voice when I mentioned it. Oh right, just in time for the Sunday Roast I'd have spent all morning preparing.

My Saturday will consist of Sainsburys, cleaning and decorating as planned - oh, Amelia's going to have a field day. Really, she will. She'll be able to malign my product choices, my lack of elbow grease and say, on a loop, "you've missed a bit".

Still, to be fair, I can't remember the last time she came and stayed for the weekend.

I'm sure it'll all come crashing back to mind the minute I clap eyes on her.