My mother's supportive response to the wedding news

Some weeks ago, I told my mother that Heather and I were thinking of getting married in Canada. At first, I said that it was something we were just thinking about, to try to ease her into the idea. I think she knows as well as I do that this is Michelle-talk for 'I've decided'. She immediatelly changed the topic.

I persisted, 'So, if we do this, will you come to the wedding?'

Mum said there was no way she would ever go to Canada, which I knew already, since she's never been outside Queensland as far as I know, and for the last ten years even the prospect of a drive to the shops has made her kind of shaky.

'No,' I said, 'I mean to the Brisbane party. We'll have a party here when we get back. Maybe in February. Will you come?'

'Oh, I don't know,' she said. 'Don't tell your father about it.' She may as well have that phrase tattooed on her forehead.

'Oh well,' I said, quickly moving into sulky, passive-aggressive mode. 'I just thought I should invite you, because it would be nice if my family was there to celebrate my wedding, you know. How could Dad come to the party if he doesn't even know what we're celebrating?'

And then Mum had a brilliant idea. 'You could tell him it's a birthday party.'

Hmmm. Or . . . not.