A commissioned dog portrait, and other mad household shit mums have

VISITING your mum? Suddenly noticed her house is filled with mad stuff you’d never find anywhere else? Look out for these key pieces: 

A commissioned dog portrait

Remember that miserable dog you had as a child? Your mum certainly does, and that’s why there’s an oil painting of him in the kitchen that your parents actually paid for. It’s bigger than any photograph of you or your siblings so you know where you stand, and it’s also been printed on coasters.

A creepy collection of porcelain models

They’re ‘collectibles’, apparently – though you’re unaware of a thriving market for sad-eyed rabbits doing random shite like hula-hooping and using an abacus. She mistakes the look of distrustful unease you give them as admiration and promises you’ll inherit them.

An unlimited number of slogan signs

Whether it’s ‘Live, Laugh, Love’, ‘This kitchen is for dancing’ or a whimsical admission of drinking gin alone from noon onwards, mums love to express themselves with signs bought from a garden centre. But the fact there are so many, on every surface, suggests someone trying to block out dark, murderous thoughts.

Bizarre kitchen items

Plastic, unusually shaped, impossible to fathom the function of? ‘That’s my meat-chopper,’ your mum will reply, or ‘my tube-squeezers’ or ‘those scissors are also a garlic-crusher, nutcracker and bottle opener’. If you hang around you’ll see tubes squeezed by hand instead because it’s easier.

Weird foreign crap

Your mum grants a blanket exception to all rules of good taste for items bought on holiday, which is why your old school picture is in a garish wooden frame with the words ‘My heart belongs to Cyprus’. It makes no sense but she thinks fridge magnets are ‘common’ so this is the only way she can commemorate the five-day trip.

The latest squirrel-proof bird feeder

Your mum’s passionate love of birds seems to have arrived simultaneously with a murderous hatred of squirrels, which is why she’s always getting the latest design of discriminatory bird feeder. Which those f**king squirrels have found a way into anyway, as she never fails to tell you.

How to survive the mother of all football hangovers

DID you massively overdo it last night? Is your hangover marring your joy at England’s win? Here’s how to survive a day of football-induced alcohol poisoning: 

Focus on the result

Keep running those two excellent goals through your aching, damaged brain. Will distract from vomiting up bile and stomach lining in the morning, and a formal warning from your boss later in the day as you roll in at lunchtime.

Rehydrate

With lager at lunchtime. Puny water isn’t going to do anything to alleviate the nausea, paranoia and dizziness so go for hair of the dog. This is the road to alcoholism, but since England only beat Germany once every 55 years you should be okay.

Read the Daily Mail 

Not generally recommended, but it’s worth checking the Mail’s lurid pictures of last night’s drunken carnage to make sure there isn’t a photo of you throwing up on a police dog or lying in a pool of urine, hopefully your own. Photos of you shirtless on top of a car waving a St George’s cross are a bonus.

Eat

Your depleted system desperately needs nutrients. A full English will come straight back up, so start with a single M&M. If that works out, try another two later in the afternoon.

Blame patriotism

You wouldn’t have got this pissed were it not for England’s glorious victory that gives our country new standing in the international game. Although you did get this pissed a couple of Fridays ago because you were a bit bored and there was nothing good on Netflix.

Put your hangover in a footballing context

Even this pain is nothing compared to how George Best, Charlie Nicholas, Roy Keane or somewhat more depressingly Gazza felt at times. You are just like them, but poorer and less fit. Apart from, again, Gazza.