Being a mother must be a strange thing. My mum often reminds me and my sister that when she got married, she wanted sons.

My dad wanted a fridge freezer but as it was they had to make do with two daughters and an ice box.

You win some, you lose some.

The only reason my mum is happy to divulge this information is that she has long since realised that, "daughters are better".

Though not yet subject to strict scientific testing, I believe her theory goes something like: Daughters will always have a relationship with their mum while too often sons replace one important female figure (mother) with another (wife), thus letting the latter take over the nurturing and leaving the mother nothing to do but stare at the phone and weep, albeit with a drastically reduced ironing pile.

Luckily for my mum her two daughters have found no mother-replacement and still happily troop back to the family fold to be treated like a pair of simple minded four-years-olds.

This is something many of us will be doing in unison this weekend.

Mother's Day really brings home the fact that women don't stop being mothers just because their toddlers have grown into 30 and 40-year-olds with houses, jobs and their own kids to coddle.

And so this is the the one day of the year that we grown up children thank our mums for the things which, the other 364 days of the year, could easily drive us to beat our own heads in with a plank.

I refer, of course, to the repeated offers of food, the requests that you should "wrap up warm", the talking on your behalf to shop assistants - behaviour which is otherwise known as being a mum.' It took me many years to work out that, when you visit your parents, you are never going to be treated like an adult.

Now, I'm gradually beginning to think, why would you want to?

After all, you can have a normal adult relationship with any of your friends but there are only two people in the world who would have you round for dinner and then send you home with an emergency food parcel.

This is a unique relationship. Insane yes, but unique and it should be treasured.

While it is exasperating to have your closest relatives pointedly ignore your last two decades of accomplishments, it does serve as a reminder that there are two people on the planet who would do anything for you and expect nothing back except your company (and your saint-like patience when they ask you if you want an Eccles cake for the 39th time.) I'm visiting my parents at the moment, and with all of that in mind I have resisted the urge to pitch in, adult-like, with the washing up.

Instead, I've been lolling on the sofa watching MTV and having my meals brought in on a tray. This might seem like selfishness, but I assure you it is only because I am such a dutiful daughter.