My mum dreams the weirdest things. The best part of this is that, after a particularly vivid night of dreaming, she gets weirded out – sometimes for days. She once refused to talk to my dad because, in a dream, he had sat on her Purple Bouclé Hedgehog Dog. Apparently Purple Bouclé Hedgehog Dogs are a very rare breed.

So here is her most recent and possibly my favourite:

Right so I was in Nazi Germany the other day, though I think it was Salzburg, as there were lots of Julie Andrews, and there was this man filling his trousers with black pudding. Lots and lots of black pudding. And he’d gaffer taped up the legs of his trousers so the black pudding couldn’t fall out. Which I thought was sensible. No one wants to walk around with their sausage hanging out their trousers. And when I asked him why was he getting so much black pudding. He said its on the shopping list? His? No Schindler’s. and with that he jumped in the Rhine and floated away. Turns out black pudding is a superb buoyancy aid.

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