“I know where all the missing socks go!” I screamed at my mum, face red with excitement and body shaking with anticipation. She turned and looked at me with a faux smile and hazy eyes. She said everything she wanted to say without saying it.

“Go on then.” She replied, voice blunt but her words sharp.

“Well it only makes sense that the washing machine OR the dryer is a portal!!” I exclaimed, pushing away any doubt that my mum had sparked. I stood there looking up at her hoping for a smile filled with joy that her child is so excited about something even if it is as trivial as missing socks, yet I was met with nothing but a grunt.

“Tell me I’m not right mum! Mum!!” I wailed, she continued on her path to wherever she was going, I didn’t know where but I had an idea. Anywhere that I wasn’t she would have been happy to be.

“And that’s the story of the missing socks” I told the woman on the sofa, she looked at me with a real smile and genuine intrigue, something I had longed for so long ago.

“That’s wonderful David, now let’s begin to unpack that” the therapist replied, voice heavy with concern and empathy.

She only cares because I pay her, I thought. Despite this, I ‘unpacked’ anyway but all of this was tainted and stained with the thought that if my mother couldn’t bare to listen to me speak about lost socks then why would she?