What's really getting on my wick at the moment is clothes shopping with my mum. I try to avoid it wherever possible. For one thing, clothes shopping is incredibly dull to begin with, but then she actually manages to introduce hatred into it.
“Urgh, I don't like that. It's girly,” she moans. She almost says it as if she hates girls. Or at least as if she wants me to. And if I'm looking for kaftans or waistcoats on eBay, she'll point at all the women's clothing and say, in hysterics, “Hah, there you go, you can have that one!”
Stupid cow.
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