SINCE The Mother was miraculously cured of of gall-bladder attack while ‘staggering through Per Una’ we’ve always felt that Marks and Spencers is her spiritual home.

Before she bought her new car recently one of her first test drives was to check she could reverse into the parking space at the nearest M&S and not many weeks go by with her and a group of friends paying a visit to a branch.

So it was a bit of an honour recently when the housemate and I were invited to join them on a shopping trip to Cardiff.

“We can have a little wander and some lunch. It’ll be a nice change,” said The Mother.

“You’re not buying any more shoes or clothes until you finally have that clear-out and take some stuff to the charity shop like you’ve been promising for the past year,” said the housemate ominously.

“You haven’t got any room for a single flip-flop let alone another pair of boots,” she added gazing ruefully at the rows of footwear which have spilled out of the shoebox and onto the floor.

Resisting the temptation to ask what use a single flip-flop would be and where I would be able to buy one if I ever thought of a use, I agreed that my debit card would remain firmly in its holder.

Clearly The Mother and her team of personal shopper - aka the friend who lives around the corner - had other thoughts.

As we entered through the hallowed doors of Marks and Spencer the split off in different directions.

“This would look nice on you,” said The Mother holding up a garment I would never be seen dead in.

“I don’t like short jackets,” I replied walking past her.

“How do you know?” She asked. “I’ve never seen you wearing one.”

“That’s because I’ve never had one,” I replied heading towards the food hall.

“Well in that case how to you know you don’t like them?”

“Because I’m 58 and I’ve got a fairly good idea of what clothes I like and what I don’t,” I replied.

“You’re like your sister. She says she doesn’t like bananas but she’s never tried one,” said The Mother rolling her eyes.

“She also said she didn’t like veal and you made her try that when she was 14 and it made her sick and kicked off her life-long aversion to eating any creature Disney has made a film about,” I replied trying to catch up with the housemate who had made good her escape.

“This would look nice on you,” announced the friend from round the corner appearing with another random item of clothing.

“Spinning on my heel to give her the same answer as The Mother had received, I hesitated mid rant…

“Actually that is quite nice,” I replied.

“And this would go nicely with it as well,” she continued dragging another garment from her trolley.

“It probably would,” I answered.

“I picked them up in your size,”she continued….

Walking out of the store laden with bags I could feel the housemate’s eyes boring in to my back.

“Which bit of ‘don’t buy any more clothes and shoes’ don’t you understand?” she muttered huffing her way into the car.