was literally the first thing my mum said when I walked through her door my morning. Not 'hello', not 'good morning', not 'thanks, daughter, from taking time out of your busy life as a carer to take me out for the day', not 'as a 40 year old woman your personal grooming and hair style is none of my business'.
No.
WOULD I LIKE TO BORROW A COMB?
No, mother. I would like to lend you a shut up, and also gift you a stop criticising me and also give you a lifetime subscription to You Are The Reason I've Always Felt Shit About Myself magazine.