What kind of business actually closes for lunch? Sure, I may sit in the shop eating a sandwich whilst I try and help you, but hey, it beats locking you out while I peruse the newspaper eating my packet of Skips. Honestly.
When I was a kid, I used to tell my father he was being a "psycho dad", normally when he was disciplining me. It's since become a family joke, and we nonchalantly pass around the insult. However, I just witnessed what I can honestly say was a real-life, full-time "psycho mum". Never before have I encountered this kind of mothering, or smothering. Either or. She was polite, she was charming, and she hated everything her daughter loved. It had to be the dress that the mother loved, not the daughter, because maybe in her head, she was going to the prom instead of her teenage daughter. Must have been some kind of suppressed dress-buying memory that has turned her into the Godzilla of all boutiques.
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