T is for time

My parents have arrived for a couple of days to check that I am surviving in a foreign country on my own.

We spend a pleasant morning at the Uffizi, which is mercifully quiet.

I had booked a restaurant for this evening. Dolores doesn't want me to go though. She doesn't see why we should have to go out when we never go out in the evening. She starts whingeing in the afternoon and by early evening has worked herself up into a full blown tantrum. I am furious. Miserable. Tearful. This type of occasion is when she gets to me most. Going out in the evening has virtually become a thing of the past and she makes me feel so old. Such an invalid.

Of course for added effect it's Valentines night.

Tempus fugit. Time flies.
Are you scared? Yes, terrified.

Katy

(T is for Teardrops - Womack and Womack)