So let me set the scene . . .
I'm in Yates yesterday with my mum and sister. I have my dad's camera which he loaned me for Barcelona, and which I'm returning to my mum so she can get my dad to upload the pics to the pc and pass to me somehow (which probably will be anytime in, oh, the next six months or so). Since I was out on Friday night and anticipating a drunken fun night, i decided to take the camera out with me then too, I figured I may as well make the most of having a decent one . . .
Anyway, back to yesterday and I've handed the camera to my mum and she's flicking through the pictures of Barcelona, asking me every so often what landmark is in the picture, to which I tend to have to answer that I have no idea. There's the odd one I squint at and say "er, that MIGHT be the Olympic stadium" or "it's some sort of palace - I think?" but most of them I just look blankly at them and shrug.
She reaches the pictures from drunken Friday night bowling and starts flicking from one to the other until she reaches one of me and my friend C. Now C is a model, who is tall, thin, pretty and has big boobs. Next to her, I don't exactly set the world alight given I'm about six inches shorter and, while I'm not fat by any means, I'm certainly a lot curvier in certain areas (apart from the chest, of course).
My mum's comment to this picture?
"Do you know what this reminds me of? I saw a picture of Kylie Minogue the other day where she looked about twice her size . . ."
"Excuse me?" I ask in disbelief.
"I mean, I know she must be like six stone in real life but she just looked much chubbier," she digs the hole further.
"Are you saying I look fat in this picture?" I can feel my voice shaking a bit.
"No, no, not at all." she says hastily. I feel myself relax a little until she adds: "It must just have been taken at a bad angle."
Thank you sooo much, Mum.
The diet is imminent . . .