Day One Hundred and Seven - eyeballs

I think I dissected an eyeball at school as part of a biology lesson, but increasingly I’m beginning to doubt the reliability of my memory and maybe it was a rat instead. Anyway, real or imagined, it was tough to cut, gloopy and fiddly.

Which I presume was the same experience today for the eye surgeons playing around with my mother’s dodgy eyeball at Moorfields Eye Hospital.

My mum, the cyclops, is a big fan of me getting slimmer but at times has the tact and guile of a drone attack at a nursery.

But now as she can’t really see for a month I can write any old thing I like about her.