My Mum

My Mum

This is my Children’s Laureate debut. Usually I have read at least something by a new laureate when he or she is chosen, but Anthony Browne was new to me. I’ve just read his My Mum, which is very sweet.

It’s funny with mothers. It goes without saying that I think mine was terrific. I used to feel sorry for my best friend because she couldn’t possibly have quite such a good mother as I did. But if I think of myself as one, then I’m a bit of a flop, while hoping that Offspring disagree with me. ♥

Anthony has an easier job in this respect. The book is clearly about his mum, and to some extent his wife as a mum. He himself is not a mother, so nothing to worry about there. I like the floral-ness of his My Mum. Dancer or astronaut; she is still floral.

I can roar. And I can look like an armchair, if necessary, although I may not be very comfy. But I love my Offspring. ♡

Always suspected I was a disappointment to Mother-of-witch. She did so much, and she ended up with a lazy, layabout of a daughter. As a prize winning typist in her early years, she wanted me to learn. And I’m still just two fingers on a laptop.

And neither of us have done floral…

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