Muffled.

I wish I could do this to my mum sometimes.

For an entire week prior to us going through to see my parents, I will receive endless phone calls making sure that: a) it's not too much bother for us; b) the weather forecast isn't predicting blizzards for our journey; c) she's got the correct foodstuffs in the fridge (no, we have no dietery requirements) and; d) the answers to a), b) and c) haven't changed in any given 24-hour period.

There's a very fine line between absolute love and matricide.