On the power of Mum

I am amazed at the power a mother can wield. Mummy has made me wildly happy by promising to come over from South Africa in September to see me create the role of a histrionic Russian dominatrix (typecasting again...) in a new musical. It will be two years since we've seen each other. Two years that have been the most challenging, awful, exhilarating times of my life. I have new clothes, new opinions and an entirely different outlook on the world. My face has changed, in reflection of this. My hands are older, hardened by the fact that I am no longer a pampered Johannesburg princess with her own maid. And I can't wait to see her. I have so much to tell her, so many great places to take her to and so many things to share. She has changed too, no doubt, and I can't wait for the moment she steps out of Heathrow and we can get to know each other again. She is the loveliest, sweetest, kindest, gentlest, most humble, beautiful, sensitive woman I know. So why is it that the prospect of having her in my house sees me scrubbing the bathroom tiles on a Sunday evening...two months before she arrives?