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Accidents will happen

This from my son.

  • “I’ve been a fool and accidentally had my sister’s birthday present delivered to my own flat.”
  • “And also realised that I don’t even have her address. Do you happen to know it?”

On one level this is heartening – ah, they still get presents for each other. I also enjoyed the self-deprecation, which is fairly typical and quite endearing. I was not surprised that he doesn’t have her address. She has moved several times, so fair enough.

However, the best bit, for me, is the query as to whether I – as her mother – ‘happen’ to know her address. It’s not as though we are estranged or anything and he knows I’ve been there. And how else would I be able to get presents delivered to her???

NEXT DAY – after I’d sent the address

  • “Thanks! Now I’ve accidentally eaten some of the one that was delivered to me…”

I love these nuggets of communication. Whilst I often wish we had longer times to chat and catch up, these small messages can really change the mood of a day.

I’m relieved that it is some years now since my own brother and I gave up getting each other presents. Or perhaps he has continued, but sends them to himself and consumes them quietly at home.

Now there’s a thought.

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