I love my little sister

Some of you may remember Gloria, the 75 year old ex-stripper who I go and visit from time to time to try on wigs and take polaroids. I forgot to see her before I left the country. Last night she phoned my sister. Who reported back thus:

Hello big bad sistah of mine.

How’s tricks? I’m large and pregnant with no house and end of month accounts to contend with. And I have to get info onto the new computer system which I’ve calculated will take around 100 hours. Not sure if that will get done by the weekend. Poor me.

Anyway, while I was grappling with big numbers Gloria called in a panic because she hadn’t heard from you. I said you’d gone to Italy for the winter. She said that her answer phone hadn’t been working well and that you’d probably tried to call. I agreed.

Then she told me her life history and said she’d call at the end of October to see how things were going with the baby. I said that you’d drop her a postcard because she asked me to. She asked why you’d gone to Italy so I said it had all been last minute but a friend had offered you a flat there and you thought why not.

She said that she’d tried your mobile and I said that it was possibly not working what with you being abroad and all that. She said she could have gone to Hollywood but she doesn’t like travelling.

She’s getting her house re-wired now that she doesn’t have a boyfriend trying to control her every move. That’s barristers for you – control freaks apparently. Her other boyfriend drank himself to death. Her husband was probably the best.

I managed to get three statements written and send out a couple of thousand pounds worth of cheques to various people during the conversation. Then it was time for tea so I had to go. The end.

Lozza love S x

So now my sister is dealing with my septuagenarian stalker. I ADORE her.