‘We should go easy on these Frangipanes’ Mum crunched. ‘Here, take them off me.’

‘I know, I’m the same’ I said, nibbling on my second one that morning. ‘I’ve suddenly developed a huge lesbian appetite.’

‘A huge appetite for lesbians?’

‘No, just cravings for more pub lunches, carpet picnics, romantic dinner dates and magnums, you know, the usual.’

‘You’ve definitely gone bigger on the beam love. You’re not normally into sweet stuff. Does Jen like Magnums?’

There’s no one like your mother to point out weight gain, over ambition and when you need your roots doing.

My mother is up there with the best. Her brutal honesty, die hard devotion and burning desire to indicate the obvious, the pitfalls and the absurd, is relentless, and yet like pretty much all loving, mother obsessed daughters I rush back for more each time.

I can’t help it. 

She was the same with hers.

Friends will say things like ‘Oh really? I hadn’t noticed, you’ve not put on weight, you look great.’

Mums say ‘What have you been eating and here, I’ve got some things that are a bit tight on the arms for me now but they might fit you, go and try them on.’

Well mine does anyway.

‘So you think becoming a lesbian is making you fat?’ She crunched bluntly.

‘No I’m not saying that, I’m just saying that since being in a same sex relationship  I’ve put on a few pounds.’

It’s true, in all my previous relationships with men, I had either lost weight or remained the same. I’d never really thought about it until I found myself in the pub reading a Slimming World add in the local newspaper.

It was one cosy Sunday afternoon whilst supping 3 pints of guest ale and devouring a thick crust meat and potato homemade pie with triple cooked chips and gravy, that the thought popped into my head…. And it wasn’t until I found myself adjusting my crotch and unbuckling my size 12’s to allow the cinnamon apple strudel and thick creamy custard to join the garlic bread…with cheese that I suddenly thought…

‘Have these trousers shrunk in the wash?’

‘Is Jen a feeder?’

‘No more than you Mum.’ I frowned, handing her the half eaten packet of frangipanes.

She got up and made her way into the kitchen.

‘You’re comfort eating.’ She boomed. ‘I’m flicking the kettle on, are you staying for another brew?’

‘Go on then.’ I replied 

I knew she had more gems of wisdom for me up her baggy sleeves and so I wasn’t quite ready to put a lid on our new ‘lesbian weight’ debate just yet, in fact we were just getting started…

10/11/2020