I think I have discovered a cure for the national obesity ‘epidemic’ that is currently sweeping the nation / ITV schedules. It is not a miracle pill. It is my mother.
In the past, specifically when I have been at least 300 miles away from my mother, I have, indeed, struggled to get into bikinis. And jeans. And many clothes, in fact. But now that am within a 34-mile (James counted them) radius, I have miraculously shed pounds. It is not through choice. It is because I have been broken down by persistent food monitoring.
Here are two actual conversations that have occurred in the extended Nadin household in the last year:
Mum Nadin: Do you want a tomato Joanna? (slaps away hand of Dad Nadin) not you, Christopher, you have three things on your plate already.
Mum Nadin: What do you want in your sandwich?
Joanna Nadin: Ham please.
Mum Nadin: No, you had ham at lunch.
Joanna Nadin: God, you are so unfair (goes and sulks in bedroom in manner of 13-year-old version of self)
In case you hadn’t guessed, my Mum is, in fact, Janet Riley, erstwhile mother of Rachel. (Not to be confused with actual Janet Riley, Saffron Walden’s only purveyor of fine quality fabrics). There is no messing with Mrs Nadin. Am thinking of hiring her out to the government. Or GMTV. She makes that army man in the hat look namby-pamby.