I know it's happening, but I'm powerless to prevent it. I'm trying, really I am. But slowly, but surely, I'm turning into my mother.

What is it that makes me want to talk to strangers? When I see someone at the checkout at the supermarket with some nice pudding on the conveyor belt, why do I want to tap them on the shoulder and say 'Oooh, I'm coming over to you for dinner tonight!'? Why can't I help myself asking some poor unsuspecting waitress where she got her shirt, because it's really nice and the cut looks great on her? What possesses me to embarrass the mumbling teenager in WH Smiths by asking him if he knows he's got beautiful eyelashes?

Of course, I know exactly what it is that makes me do it. It's what my mother always did, whilst I squirmed with embarrassment next to her, amazed that she couldn't see how inappropriate it was. But nowadays, I see it all so differently. Why not? Why not tell someone that they have a pleasing facial feature or good taste in clothes/food? Why is it so bad? Surely, SURELY, it's a nice thing to do?

I can't help myself.

Oh dear.