So anyway, I have to stop running to my mother when she has a crying fit because I can't tell between genuine and neurotic anymore. In fact, I'm just reminded of where all my own neuroses come from when I do it.
She is convinced all her bits are dropping off, and she's gonna die and my Dad's gonna get a new model, and even if she doesn't die, he's gonna get a newer model anyway.
I think it's fair to say she is slowly turning into Eddy from Ab Fab.
...except with Marks and Spencer labels.