Mum's tone of voice is one she uses when she's delighted with herself for having done something that proves her independence. Inevitably, these days, this means she's done something that I then have to spend a day or two rescuing her from, so I find the tone far from encouraging.
"I just thought I'd ring you to tell you about this book I've got.... it's called 'Farm Foods' and it's got all these meals in it and you can order them and they come frozen and you can get deserts and they do smaller portions if you want..."
Mum is very excitedly telling me about a brochure for the same frozen meal service she has been using since February. She has picked up the brochure from a display in the communal lobby of the flats. As far as Mum's concerned this is an entirely new concept and she's thrilled. I feel wretched explaining to her that this isn't, actually, anything new and, in fact, one reason I arranged the meals-on-wheels service for her is that she proved unable to heat these frozen meals satisfactorily. As often is the case nowadays, Mum treats this as if I'm making it up just to annoy her.