My mother and little brother arrived in London yesterday. They are staying with me in my flat for a few days while Kate and Mella are out of town. I have to say that part of me was extremely worried about their arrival – I assumed that we’d find it difficult actually “living” together, even for a couple of days. But things have actually been going really well.
Yesterday they arrived about one, and we went out straight away for lunch. My brother is now 5’8″, which I find terrifying since he is only 14. Only two inches shorter than me. I’m not sure I like that. Afterwards we wandered into the centre of town, and went to Selfridges, Gap and various other clothes shops where my mother desperately attempted to buy me shirts, without much luck (I find it hard to find something I like when pressed). Then we wandered over to Leicester Square and saw The Whole Nine Yards. Which was, I am afraid to say, poor. A quick bite to eat later and I’m up on the net most of the night, while my family collapse in bed asleep.
Today has been similarly busy, albeit in a slightly more cultural way (although my attempts to foster my brother’s interests in modern art have failed dismally). We all went to the Tate Modern, and managed to work our way through about a third of the building before collapsing under the strain. I managed not to spend to much money in the bookshop either, which has to be a first. We’re now mooching around the flat and trying to work out where to eat this evening. It’s all very civilised…