Hazel struggled against the rope but it held firm. She couldn’t move her arms from her sides and her legs were just too short to let her stand up, with the chair still tied on, and waddle into the kitchen. Those blasted kids.
Some Mother’s Day this was turning out to be. Hazel always added the apostrophe, even though just about every card on the high street omitted it these days. She’d come down stairs in her housecoat, ready to flick on the kettle, tune into Radio 4 and begin breakfast. But Rosie was already in the kitchen about to start cooking in Hazel’s kitchen. Jamie came in shortly after and Hazel found herself frog-marched into the sitting room but her two teenage children.
And then Jamie had produced a skipping rope, pointed to a chair and when she sat down, proceeded to tie Hazel to it.
They left her in the room, all by herself. A few minutes later Rosie came in with the radio and switched it on. It was tuned to Radio 2 and Hazel loathed Steve Wright, had done since his show in the 1980s. he was no better now. She called and called, asking could she please have The Archers on, but to no avail.
No matter how much Hazel called and wriggled, nobody came. She could hear noises of clanky cooking from the kitchen and caught the smell of bacon and scorched toast. Perhaps it would be nice to have someone else make breakfast for a change. But there was the washing to put on and a big pile of ironing. White school shirts don’t press themselves, do they. At least they could let her get on with something else.
After what seemed an age but was probably only twenty minutes judging by the number of Mothers’ Day messages Steve read out and songs he played. The children came in. They set a place at the dining table, cutlery shined and laid out properly, a napkin and a juice glass added, a raffia mat put out so the wood didn’t burn. Rosie went out again and returned with a tray of breakfast, which she placed on the table.
“Happy Mother’s Day, Mum. We made you breakfast. Sorry about the rope but we knew you’d never let us do it for you. You always do everything for us and today, we are doing for you instead. Jamie will untie you now, but you must promise you won’t try to cook or clean or anything like housework all day. Promise?”
Hazel said, “I promise” and Jamie loosed the knot in the rope. She began to eat and asked, “Can we at least have The Archers please?” “Just a little longer,” said Rosie and then they heard it.
Steve Wright did a call out, “Rosie and Jamie would like to wish Mum Hazel a very special Mother’s Day today. Apparently they have a bit of a surprise in store for you Hazel. I wonder if you’ve had it yet? And they’ve asked for a Queen song for you and said it would mean something to you. So for Hazel, from Rosie and Jamie, here’s “Tie Your Mother Down.”
Some Mother’s Day this was turning out to be. Hazel always added the apostrophe, even though just about every card on the high street omitted it these days. She’d come down stairs in her housecoat, ready to flick on the kettle, tune into Radio 4 and begin breakfast. But Rosie was already in the kitchen about to start cooking in Hazel’s kitchen. Jamie came in shortly after and Hazel found herself frog-marched into the sitting room but her two teenage children.
And then Jamie had produced a skipping rope, pointed to a chair and when she sat down, proceeded to tie Hazel to it.
They left her in the room, all by herself. A few minutes later Rosie came in with the radio and switched it on. It was tuned to Radio 2 and Hazel loathed Steve Wright, had done since his show in the 1980s. he was no better now. She called and called, asking could she please have The Archers on, but to no avail.
No matter how much Hazel called and wriggled, nobody came. She could hear noises of clanky cooking from the kitchen and caught the smell of bacon and scorched toast. Perhaps it would be nice to have someone else make breakfast for a change. But there was the washing to put on and a big pile of ironing. White school shirts don’t press themselves, do they. At least they could let her get on with something else.
After what seemed an age but was probably only twenty minutes judging by the number of Mothers’ Day messages Steve read out and songs he played. The children came in. They set a place at the dining table, cutlery shined and laid out properly, a napkin and a juice glass added, a raffia mat put out so the wood didn’t burn. Rosie went out again and returned with a tray of breakfast, which she placed on the table.
“Happy Mother’s Day, Mum. We made you breakfast. Sorry about the rope but we knew you’d never let us do it for you. You always do everything for us and today, we are doing for you instead. Jamie will untie you now, but you must promise you won’t try to cook or clean or anything like housework all day. Promise?”
Hazel said, “I promise” and Jamie loosed the knot in the rope. She began to eat and asked, “Can we at least have The Archers please?” “Just a little longer,” said Rosie and then they heard it.
Steve Wright did a call out, “Rosie and Jamie would like to wish Mum Hazel a very special Mother’s Day today. Apparently they have a bit of a surprise in store for you Hazel. I wonder if you’ve had it yet? And they’ve asked for a Queen song for you and said it would mean something to you. So for Hazel, from Rosie and Jamie, here’s “Tie Your Mother Down.”
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