Confusion
All day Saturday I thought it was Sunday. Now, on Monday, it feels like Sunday. I wished my granddaughter a happy birthday on Friday, but it wasn’t her birthday until Saturday.
I write all the family dates in my diary at the beginning of the year, but somehow I put Kiri’s birthday on the wrong date. I got my mother-in-law’s birthday date wrong every year – that was in the years before I wrote all the dates down.
I’m not the only one to be confused. My eldest daughter, who is usually extremely well organised, can never remember my wedding anniversary, and is always a day late. That’s probably because we have never made a big thing of it. I can’t really blame her – it took many years for the date to etch itself into my husband’s memory.
It would be easier if he were a shooting man. The Glorious Twelfth, the beginning of the grouse shooting season, is a date that’s never forgotten.
