It is not the statement a competent publicist would deliver to a sceptical public to convince them that mummy is not a bible-thumping, condom-hating meddler with tunnel vision and delusions of grandeur; it is sentimental mush. Sweet mush, but mush nevertheless. It is pretty much the same kind of tripe any one of us would write if it was our own mother being sworn in. I wouldn’t ask you to read it except for the second last sentence. Would you launch your mom into parliament with this nickname?
Also, when you go to the Seychelles, DO NOT say you are a fan of Bebe Cool.
