Standing in the kitchen at half 3 today I think, I could take mum into town to buy the handbag she wants to buy in the morning. Maybe even take her out for a cake. She should have calmed down from telling the family that I am a terrible troublemaker on Sunday after 2 days of daycare. The phone rings at 4.20pm. It is my mum ( mixed blessing that she can work the picture based age uk phone we got her). 'Hello!' I say 'Did you have a nice day?' No I didn't, I was only ringing becuase I thought you might want to know that I was back. Yes I say, it's about the right time - about to launch into handbag shopping invite when the tirad starts. They picked her up too early in the morning, they drove around plucking 18-20 people from their homes. They made them sit in chairs all day doing nothing waiting for the chiropodist (who isn't due for another 2 weeks) They couldn't get away with not feeding them though. And no she will not be eating any tea, and no she will not be letting the lady that takes her out once a week do it ever again, and I am a terrible person becasue I never bother to see her. I never have her for dinner (4 nights a week) I don't care, I don't bother and she knows I've been in her house playing with the bins today. After she hangs up on me I think I'd better pre warn the evening carer about the volatile atmosphere. Carer texts after her visit, mum was really chatty, has had a lovely day and ate all the tea the carer made. I could scream with frustration. I really do hate dementia. I feel more trapped by it that she is.