A leopard never changes its spots.

There I thought my dad was running out of puff and so the flashes of rage would explode less often and eventually die out...I was wrong. He still has it all in him and it still all needs to come out. And as it happens, I am the only one around so muggins here gets it full force every time.

I was cleaning the kitchen, as you do, and noticed the beautiful pot of snowdrops that dad was given for Christmas by an old church friend. I suddenly wondered if he had thanked said friend as it had been placed in our porch without any fuss or acknowledgement.

I entered the lounge and he is back lying on the sofa again. He was told off by the physiotherapist last week for doing that but that is another story. He was watching a football match. I checked and it was not even 'his' team. I have previously mentioned long running niggles that recur quite often and this is one of the niggles that most infuriates him. I know this well so I stopped myself from speaking and waited. The niggle is that my Mum or I would talk to him when a goal was being scored so he would miss the goal. The thing is, I know that those goals are replayed ten thousand times (slight exaggeration) from every different angle possible. So if you miss the ball in the net the first time, fear not as you will definitely see it again a number of times! But still because I have had this barrage of abuse over the years for this, I waited until the ball had hit the back of the net before I looked at him to speak to him.

He went off at me shouting that I had spoiled the whole game for him now as he had missed that goal. He was spitting venom with his twisted mouth and eyes like lasers. I took a deep breath and told him that he would be shown that goal a number of times. So I told him to watch it and I would wait until they had finished replaying it. I added there was no reason at all for him to shout and be rude to me like that. I stood there facing the TV and did not look at him. We watched the goal about three times before he, still raging, asked what I wanted. I was calm and looked at him and repeated that it is not appropriate for him to speak to me like that. I said I was actually there to remind him to thank his good friend for the snowdrops so she did not feel he was being rude to her either.

There was silence. Not even a 'piep'* came out of him. He nodded and said he would phone her. I was not finished yet. Once again I stood my ground and said his rudeness and lack of respect was uncalled for especially as he knew very well that he would see that goal so many times. I then walked out.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaargh! Where did my strength come from? I can't recall ever, ever, EVER telling him that before. I know I have thought it every time it has happened and it has happened an infinite number of times but I would have either turned and walked out with tears brimming or stayed to get shouted at until he was ready to talk. Phew! I needed a sit down after that.

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PS Oh my goodness, he has just come into the kitchen while I was cooking. He spat out that

he hates this contraption aka his new walking frame. Then he said: 'I am sorry for

attacking you. I am just so frustrated.'

Well, that is the first time I have had an apology from him like that. I will take it. He

is probably thinking, I want lunch so I had better placate her.

PPS piep* is an onomatopaeic Afrikaans word meaning a squeaky 'peep' sound.

PPPS I love leopards and he is nothing like a leopard, apart from the 'not changing his spots'

part.

PPPPS For those of you who were wondering, I had a lovely Christmas meal with friends. He

sat there as quiet as a mouse and did not attempt to take over the conversation at all.

Mostly I think, because he could not get a word in edgeways. Ha ha.