Thank you for listening to me last night, Monika – much appreciated. It really does feel as if I’m living with four children, except the fourth one is the most childish and adolescent, only I can’t ground him or cut off his pocket money. It’s strange that the other three can’t wait to be adults while Tom can’t wait to be ten again, give or take a few unfortunate biological facts. By the way, I can now see how Estonian Spirit of International Co-operation Birch Liquor has fortified your national heroes through centuries of troubled history. It was a lovely idea for a Christmas present.
I’m sure this isn’t what your mother thought she was sending you to and I apologise. I didn’t mean to cry and it was so nice of you to give me your complete set of hand embroidered handkerchiefs. As I mentioned, I can’t talk to my own mother because she always thought he was the wrong man, especially when he told her she had a petit bourgeois attitude to commodity fetishisation and was a victim of late global capitalism. Can you imagine what it was like introducing your future partner as a psychogeographer? I might as well have said he was a medium level pornographer, at least they would have seen it as potentially profitable. It was interesting what you said about your parents only having a real connection through their in-depth knowledge of beetroots. I sometimes feel this with my parents, except it’s more like carpeting in their case. It was nice of you to say it wasn’t because I had a career that things have gone pear-shaped. Guilt, guilt, guilt. Please, I mean anyone would think I was the one who couldn’t hold down a job and sat at home doing annoying things with my slippers. I could be a better employer to you Monika, I know. You’ve been so good and haven’t troubled me with your personal affairs. Is everything alright? We might need some more guinea pig food.
Bella x
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