Letters from the homefront

I made the trip back to the Mother Country to help my poor old mum and dad. Mum is in the hospital, so I have been looking after dear old dad.

This morning I woke up to a bang, a crash and a cry. I raced downstairs to find an overturned chair and dad sprawled on the floor.

"I fell down" my dad said.

"I see" I said, trying to compose my thoughts.

"What time did you get in last night?" said my dad, from the kitchen floor.

"Um, about twelve.."

"Oh that's not so bad then is it? How was the play?" My dad asked. I briefly considered telling my dad about the part in the four hundred year old play where the cast started dancing to Beyonce's 'All the single ladies' but then reality kicked in and I realised he was still on the floor...

"Er, it was alright.....would you like to get up?"

"That's a good idea!"

I picked him up, and the chair, and the milk, and on we went.