How many bags of shopping can you fit into one apartment?

Blimey. I’ve got my dear old mother visiting at the moment, which means it’s not really fair me leaving her unattended while I bash about on my keyboard.

It’s not that she’s infirm and is likely to go careering down some steps, nor that I’d feel particularly rude leaving her to watch Big Brother 8 on her first ever visit to America.

No, I’m quickly running out of space to hold anymore of her shopping. It seems as though every time my back is turned another bag of clothes or toys is bought for her granbairns. I’m sure John hasn’t sanctioned half of these purchases. He’ll be lucky if he gets some lame fishing hat that just about perches on his rotund bonce.

I have quite a bit of spare closet, but it’s like one of those odd 80s films where some starry-eyed third world type comes off the plane and can’t help themselves once they clap their eyes on what America has to offer. If I could cue a blog shopping montage, I would.

As it stands, we’re going to have to go shopping for new suitcases so she can take half of the stuff back with her. She’s putting together a shipping itinerary for the rest of it.

Whatever happened to good old-fashioned sight-seeing, eh?

Still, the way my mother’s going, the boys back home will have to come up with a new design for their plastic shopping bag dispenser.

Or I’ll have to get bulk shipping discounts from Fedex.