I take them to task

This evening, unusually for us, we drop over to my mum's home for a brief visit. We bring a little gift from Ireland, viz, a tiny but genuine four-leaf clover. I have also brought half a dozen of my recent photos, including some taken on our Laugharne visit. Finally, I have also brought her own copy of my "Old Man Walking" story, which she read there, and apparently loved.

We study her birthday cards, nearly ten in all, not a bad haul really, though mum points out that one from her cousin, who often comes to stay with her, bringing his family, is not among the collection. I promise to ring them when I get home around 9PM, which I do immediately upon my return.

His wife, My aunt, picked up, as I thought she would, and I explained what had happened, and how mum had been upset by the non-arrival of a card from them. She squirmed a little upon the hook, but I wouldn't have it. At one point she says:
"Well we never get a card from her"
"That's because she's an old lady who is gradually losing her memory. You're a lot younger and your memory is OK. No, there's been a failure of optimal behaviour here"
She began to fight back, but I was all over her:
"Look, I'm only telling you all this because I saw my mum so upset. Now I love my mum a lot, and as it happens I also love you guys. And it's only because I do love and respect you that I felt able to tell you about it. Sorry..."
If I say so myself, it was a masterful performance. All her anger and irritation evaporated, as she admitted that perhaps she did indeed drop the ball on this one. I left it by extracting a promise that she would ring mum and apologise for missing her birthday.
"It's not the end of the world, but I just think it would be nice to close it out like this"
And with that I was gone. It can sometimes difficult to extricate one's self from her on the telephone, but tonight I was able efforlessly to take my leave and leave her doubtless thoughtful over the subject for next while.