Motherly Love

I got a message from my Mum this morning. I hit the listen button and was greeted by a very concerned sounding mother describing the horror with which she had watched the heavens open over her all day. She said she had been thinking about my plan to move into a tent and that she was not sure it was such a good idea. She couldn't bear the thought of me being wet and cold and alone in a tent and asked me to consider very carefully what I was doing.

I duly spent some hours evaluating my desires and ambitions. I realised that she may well be right regarding the discomfort I may have to endure. I am not sure I would like my offspring (when they eventually materialise) to expose themselves to the weather, the inevitable pitfalls of doing something so unconventional, the cruel critics, the damp.

I am not sure I would like to think of my first born son as of no fixed abode and living in a tent, prey to the vicissitudes of fate and foul weather and it is for these reasons that I have come to a decision. I have decided that I should delete my mothers answer machine message and forget I ever heard it.

Problem solved.