The Demon Scriptwriter

We’ve had my mum down to visit this weekend. There are two things that are guaranteed to happen whenever she comes down from Leamington Spa:

1. We’ll have a heated debate about politics where we end up shouting and Emily sits there quietly, trying to stay out of it
2. My mum will lament how little she sees her grandchildren and I’ll nag her to move back to London so she can see them whenever she likes. This will infuriate her and an awkward, polite phase will follow

Both of these things happened, as expected. It’s strange how one ends up in the same old scenarios with relatives, time and again. It’s like they’re scripted by some demonic hack who likes conflict and repetition. All you can do is repeat the lines you’re given on the mental autocue.