(If you are a Christian/cult member of any kind hoping for some divine revelation, then this is not the blog for you).

You would think that I’d have learnt by now. If I want my parents to visit me at 1pm, I should tell them to arrive at 1.30pm;then at least I’d have some hope of being ready for their arrival at 1pm. Eleven years after first leaving home, I say, “Come between 12 and 12.30,” naively assuming 12 will be the earliest that they will knock at my door. Why do I still hold out hope that they will have realised that my sister and I will NEVER- I repeat- N-E-V-E-R be ready BEFORE the time we say we’ll be ready? So today, following my 12/12.30pm invitation, why am I still surprised when my fiance shouts up the stairs, “Your parents are here!” just as I am turning off the shower? “Seriously?” I shout back.
“Sorry we’re early love!” yells my mum’s cheerful voice. But today, today is a revelation for me. Today, I step out of the shower at 11.45am (15 minutes before their earliest expected time of arrival) and I realise: it doesn’t matter. It does not matter that they are early, that they will have to wait 20 minutes while I sort out my hair and get ready. It’s fine. They are my quirky, irritating and loving parents. They are welcome in my home; it is their home too.

I shout, “Hiya!” wrap my hair in a towel, put on my bathrobe and head downstairs to point them in the direction of the teabags and milk. Today, as always, they are early and I am not ready. But today, it is fine.


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