Mum used to take me on a day trip to the seaside once in a while - I remember her watching proudly as I paddled around a boating lake. And one summer, while I was home from uni, we drove out to Cromer.

I wanted to go on a coin-pusher, so we went to an arcade on the seafront. There was a bracelet that looked fairly precarious on top of the pile of coins. I pointed it out to her, and so we took turns putting in 2p at a time to get it over the edge. We got through a cup of change, laughing and joking all the way; eventually I got bored, and suggested we move on. She wasn't having any of it.

We got through cup after cup of 2ps. No end was in sight. I complained; I started to build up a visible layer of coin dirt on my hands. We even won another bracelet in the machine, as a bycatch on the way to our goal. I began to become alarmed at the level of Mum's determination. And at last, after parting with a good £10 in 2ps, we emerged victorious. We were both as triumphant as we'd ever been. I put on my two bracelets and, exhausted, we took a takeaway to the car.

I still wear the bracelet often. It's just beads and charms and elastic, so it'll wear out sooner or later. But like so much else I have, it reminds me how hard mum always worked for us, whether for something big or something little. (And that she always was pretty wild.)