Turkish delight

Mrs Nunn is staying. Mrs Nunn subsides entirely on vegetables and multitudinous cups of tea. She genuinely makes two cups of tea for herself at any one time. This is because she is mad. I worry that it might be genetic.

Mrs Nunn was very excited by the Turkish restaurant I took her and Mr Nunn to on Saturday night. So excited was she, that she told my little brother Jack all about it. Thankfully little brother Jack is a big snitch and relayed the following at lunch the next day:

"Mum," said Jack. "What did you have for dinner last night?"

"Turkish food," said Mrs Nunn, quite proudly.

"What was that round food you were talking about? Like meatballs but veggie?" goaded Jack.

"Ooh, they were lovely," said Mrs Nunn. "I never knew I liked kerfaffle."

*Long pause while it sinks in*

"Kerfaffle?" I asked.

"Yes," said Mrs Nunn, beginning to become aware that something wasn't quite right.

Tears were running down Jack's face. TheBloke (TM) was trying to be polite, but I think his shoulders were shaking. Mr Nunn was looking at his shoes.

"It is kerfaffle, isn't it?" said Mrs Nunn.

"Falafel, Mum," said I.

Jack wasn't done. "Tell us about the humus, Mum."

"Ooh, it was lovely," said Mrs Nunn. "Thick, creamy and not too salty; just the way I like it. I ate it all up and could have had more."

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mrs Nunn.

STOP PRESS: 20.41, Mrs Nunn: "Laura, have you seen that Ben Stiller film Meet the Fuckers?"