Nagging Wives Club.

Yesterday saw a shopping trip to Cribbs Causeway with the aim of finding my Dad some new clothes. It was doomed from the start due to the presence of my mother. My parents rarely get along: they should have divorced years ago, and the bickering does not cease in public. My mum, who used to be a model, is rather image conscious, shall we say. My dad does not care what he is wearing so long as a) he can move in it and b) is not indecently exposed.

Our trip took us to Marks and Spencer where there were copious elderly couples. All the wives were picking out clothes and all the men trailed behind their spouse with a look of disgust on their face as they were forced to try on things they would never select willingly. The same snipets of conversation could be found in all directions. "Do you like that?", "S'alright", "I like it. Next!", "Can I try it on now? Can we go now?", "Oh stop pulling faces like that" and so on and so forth. Upon asking my dad what HE thought of a pair of deck shoes (which I don't think he wanted to admit that he did rather like) he replied "Oh, whatever keeps your mother happy".
In the end he resulted in a basket of clothes that (apart from the shoes) he probably does not like at all, but Mum does. And as a final insult, it was Dad who had to fork out for it all.

In a twisted roundabout way, I guess everybody'll be happy in the end. Dad will be dressed appropriately according to Mum's standards, which means she can't moan at him about his appearance. In other words, she may take a week's holiday from the Nagging Wives Club. Just a week though, something else is bound to crop up soon enough.