Here’s an exchange I had today:
Hey Aunt B, let me take a picture of you in your new dressing gown. People have been concerned, so I want to send them a picture of you looking all cosy.
People? What people? Why are they ‘concerned’?
Oh you know – the kids, my mother… of course they’re concerned, because I said you were in hospital!
Your mother? You don’t have a mother.
Of course I do.
You don’t have a mother. You have a brother. And his name is Kate.
Er – well then what’s MY name then?
Ohhh, I’ve given up asking her.