Through the rippled glass I could see the wobbly silhouette of a delivery man with a large box.
"Odd," I thought, "I haven't ordered anything."
When I picked up the box -- which weighed almost nothing -- I realised what it was. My thoughtful daughter had sent flowers! Even better, when I opened the box, there were chocolates inside as well. Belgian chocolates. These will be my reward for marking the last of the OU assignments. I resolve not to eat a single one until all the assignments are returned.
Oh, and my son hasn't forgotten me either. There was a cute card from him yesterday.
Mothering Sunday always brings mixed feelings though because, whilst it it delightful to be given cards and gifts by my offspring, it always reminds me that it's 30 years since my own mother died and how much I've missed having her there down the years.