Mum Envy

Today: my last jab-visit to the nurse. I've liked going to see the nurse. There's a height detector on the wall by the entrance, just like the ones you used to get in school. I've been sidling up to it longingly after each session, itching to say, 'can you measure me please?' And today I thought: I'm leaving on Tuesday - why not live a little? Damn it, I'll ask. I'm 5'11."
After this intrigue I headed for the Clipper (bar) with my dear Mother. She looked alarmingly good in her Gap jeans, complete with stylish accessories as endorsed by Gok Wan etc. etc. My Mum looks better than me, I thought. How has this come about?
Back at home we've been experimenting with our backpacks. Upon dragging them out of the cupboard there sprung the immediate question: who was having which? Both of us lunged for the blue one. A fight was clearly imminent, but being the smaller person I had to back down. Green one it is - half of which is now filled with anti-malaria pills.
Hmm.