This weekend is a triple whammy of birthdays. There's Talkative Sis whose thirty-erm something, Lawyers Sis's other half and Mummy who offically is 21 again but if you look at her birth certificate may state that it was been issued a few moons ago. Needless to say it's a landmark and a cause for the family to once again meet, drink and bounce off walls.

The trio of us immediate daughters have all clubbed together and we've bought her the standard rose with yellow buds that she had her eye on from the local B&Q. Took some penny saving but we got there :) Father however wanted 24kt jewellery for Mother and went out on his own and bought her a set setting off into town and shopping. From a localised "retailler". He went to Wants, the local pawnbrokers which caused Talkative Sis to be momentarily stunned before lecturing him on hygiene and actually asking Mother what she may want for her special day.

Have you ever seen that episode of Scrubs? The one where Turk gives his lady love a gift that unbeknown to him was previously removed from a patient's rectum - effectively, he blessed her with an arse pen to prove his love. True to tv fantasy, this set of jewellary is my Mothers arse pen. A set of pawned second hand jewellery that she will in no doubt love but would bathe in several gallons of dettol before she wears them. And whilst cringing at his first revelation, he revealed his second choice of gift, completely stunning me as he imparted the secret of what else he had bought to surprise mother...

I know. Words do not suffice. I did try "Gopping", "Hideous", "Grotesque" or even "My eyes, My eyes, My bleeding eyes!" were not sufficient enough and he took no note. Apparently the mere fact that my mother collects ornamental "Wade" was enough to persuade him that this collection of things, on one of her most important birthdays, was what she desired and most dearly longed for.

Needless to say, I'm not sure if the stuff which her childrens nightmares will be a happy gift, but I do know that she will have no room in which to display them as they are filled with other ornamental tatt with even more curios which had been packed aways in boxes years ago when they visited far away lands, and had since forgotten and replaced on the shelves.

Whilst to my shame, I had given in to the emotional blackmail that my Father had thrown at me to procure the clowns above. I did however put my foot down at completing the set. I mean, would you like to receive this on a celebratory mature landmark?

If no, could you kindly have a word with my Father?