A number of people have asked exactly why Frowny is called Frowny.

Well, Duh!… and they call me ‘slow’. It’s because 80% of the time she’s frowning. It’s not her fault, I think it’s because she concentrates a lot and forgets what her face is doing. The funny thing is that all those people who’ve asked why, haven’t needed to ask who Frowny is… so presumably they’ve noticed it too.

I’m not much of a one for names. If I’m told this person is Trevor or that one is Brenda they’re just nouns that don’t really mean anything and I forget them right away, but from what I hear most people do that. If on the other hand you throw a couple of adjectives in there and say “Scary Woman” or “Enormous Moustache Man” it’s very easy to remember people, even years down the line. You should try it.

Of course the reason for Frowny’s furrowed brow might be because she has a lot to frown about. There’s all the usual stuff like shopping, preparing the next meal, cleaning the house and co-ordinating everyone’s social lives, but I have to take my share of the blame and admit that I pile a lot of work on her with all the extra washing, repairing clothes, hospital appointments and feeding my daily drug habit (some call this ‘medicinal’ but I hope we understand each other well enough to know better by now).

She didn’t go to University for three years and have a proper grown-up job that she loved for another 12 to end up like this. And Smiley’s not much help, sitting in his shed at the end of the garden drawing his little pictures and writing his little jokes… I think he could do a lot more. Sometimes she cries at night when she thinks no one is listening, so it’s hardly surprising that she frowns a lot. That’s why I chose a photo of her where she looks really happy – it’s the least I could do. Everyone say “Ahh!”

More than anyone else, she looks after me: prepares my meals (she’s the only person who gives me the portion sizes I truly crave), makes sure I’m warm enough and diligently attends all those dull welfare meetings I have no patience for. If I was capable of feeling guilt I’m sure I’d feel bad about everything I’ve put her through over the years.

Yeah, whatever.

Anyway, biologically speaking, Frowny is absolutely, definitely, 100% my mother.

But… you could sense there was a ‘but’ coming couldn’t you?…  I’m not much of a one for the social conventions of the traditional family unit, I’m more of a moment-to-moment kind of guy. Some days Frowny, Smiley, Flower Girl and Curly Top are the centre of my universe – in fact there are days when I focus all of my attention on any one of them to the exclusion of everything else. But on other days they seem to be just going through tedious drudgery of everyday life and they’re no fun at all, so I ignore them completely. Some days I just ignore them anyway because, well, I’m easily distracted. People who don’t know me very well are often bothered by being ignored, but I think they need to grow up and get over themselves.

Besides, I don’t want to tie myself down too young in life, there are plenty of friendly, entertaining people in the world. If I take a fancy to someone new I’ll let them know; it could be a total stranger in the park or a person on a bus or at the swimming pool or at school, and if they’re being more convivial than the person I arrived with I’ll often attempt a hug. Some people enjoy this and take it in good spirits; other people are completely freaked out by it, which can be entertaining in itself.

I’ve been told not to do this (which is like telling the wind not to blow) and people who work with me have been asked not to do it either, apparently it’s not ‘appropriate behaviour’. I can’t help thinking that if more people behaved like this and were a bit less controlled with their emotions the world might be a happier place.

But for the time being I think I’ll stick with Frowny. She’s the only person who’s ever looked at me as if I’m everything she ever hoped for in life.

She really needs to get out more.