Acrylic Mam, at table in the Mexican restaurant, on yet to be Acrylic Dad’s birthday


Is it pensive that look? It has a slight smile to it. A knowing quality. Surrounded by her chaps. 

Acrylic Mam is a few little lagers in. Yet to be Acrylic Paul has been riding her about this. 

In the family history there are a few amusing anecdotes of alcohol and Acrylic Mam. 

She had a cream carpet in the bedroom that was once in the doorway, in the morning, an interesting blue red and black colour. 

‘This is lager and black, children. It is like pop and it has come out of your Mother like pop.’

‘Like pop?’

‘Like pop, children.’

‘Oh…’

Acrylic Mam sort of smiles when she has had a few. It is almost a smirk. Sometimes she gets the words in the wrong order. 

‘Sends the man over,’ she uttered with great vim and personality at the last birthday, referring to the waiter who she wanted to discuss some business with, imminently - likely, and namely, ‘What is the damage on this dinner time, young man?’

‘Oh, it is quite substantial misses Acrylic Mam. Quite like you have got your family gathered for a meal time.’

‘Yes waiter man. And I love it.’

And I love Acrylic Mam. I have sent her this portrait. She has said ‘You have captured my look very well.’ But there is a possibility that she is not quite so keen. I know she does not like to hear her voice when it is recorded. What of her image in the Mexican restaurant?

We shall wait, and we shall see. It is unlikely that I will update you directly. I just can’t see it happening. 

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