I've tried sorting out Dad's paperwork, done some filing, washed out the vacuum cleaner and used it to clean up as best I could, bought a new mop and bucket, toilet rolls, disinfectant, detergent, I've sewed buttons back on, sewed hems up on trouser legs, found three pairs of long johns that Dad didn't know he had, tidied up and seen the Cute Nephew and Cute Niece.
Cute Nephew is so reliant on his glasses that he goes to bed with them on and puts them on his bedside table last thing. Middle brother and his wife the Neurotic Sister-In-law don't know what to do about Dad either. He's too proud, too stubborn and too graceless to have too much done for him.
Neurotic Sister-In-Law can't get over how few wrinkles I have compared to her. Middle Brother pointed out I don't drink or smoke. I preened. And, he continued, being so fat fills out a lot of the wrinkles. Hmmmn.
It is true though. All that advice about no alcohol, no smoking, plenty of rest and plenty of water really does work. That and the depression acts likes Nature's Botox. No laughter lines.
Middle Brother proudly showed me his latest work contract. A broken down ice-cream van that has been re-jigged to advertise something on the Disney channel. Urban Vermin anyone? It's been towed off to Cannes for some film and television thingie and will spend a week parked up on the beach front promenade. Just as well, it won't go anywhere.
I received my birthday presents from my brothers (£50 cheque and some vanilla smellies from the Body Shop). Thanks fellas you're only, what, three months late.