Rolls Royce of walking frames

I must admit, I was rather sceptical despite my mother’s lyrical enthusiasm.


My mother, now in her 70s (sorry mom, but your age is no longer a state secret), recently got herself a new set of wheels.

When it comes to transport, my mother has never been flashy. Her first car was a red Beetle. I was around four years old when my parents decided one family car just wouldn’t do. After all, it was my mother’s responsibility to taxi my sister and I to school every day.

It was a second-hand car with quite a lot of miles – yes, the odometer was still marked in miles – on the clock, but my father always ensured it was in perfect running order. There was this odd little space behind the back seat which I duly claimed as my own.

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Being a scrawny boy, I was comfortably snug in my private seat.

I was in my early teens when my mother finally traded in her beetle for a second-hand white Ford Escort Sport. With a 1 600 engine, it was like a race car compared to the beetle. My sister was pleased, as she was at that age where she was embarrassed to be seen in the old skedonk.

Suddenly, my mother could drop her off in front of the school gate, and not a block away. An Opel Kadett, again second-hand, replaced the Ford when I was at university and I was already a married man when my mother finally got a brand-new car – a silver Chev Spark. To this day, she drives her little Sparky.

The other day, she called me and told her about her new set of wheels. Having visited a number of dealers and after “test-driving” a few different models, she finally decided on a shiny, metallic red machine with all the bells and whistles.

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Nonslip grips on the steering, leather seat, ample space for her shopping, lightweight yet sturdy, aesthetically pleasing design… I must admit, I was rather sceptical despite my mother’s lyrical enthusiasm.

Then she sent me a photo. True, it is a masterpiece. An engineering marvel worthy of being called the Rolls Royce of walking frames.

“It’s not a walking frame,” corrected my mother. “It’s a Rollator!”

So, mother, I hope your Rollator gives you as many trouble-free, memory-making miles as all your other vehicles have done.

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