The prospect of having someone else here who would take control of Mima for a few hours was wonderful. That was the theory; the practice proved somewhat different.

I felt a little body squeezing in next to me–nothing new there. It cuddled into me and I went back to sleep, like the meat in a sandwich. I was so tired, I didn’t want to wake, I knew there were others who didn’t share this view and I could almost feel them willing me to wake up; as if by staying asleep I was spoiling their fun.

I sat up and snarled, “There, I’m awake, do you feel better?” and glanced at the two sleeping bodies alongside me.

“What’s the matter, Babes?” said Simon sleepily.

“Sorry, I was talking in my dream.”

“ ‘Kay,” he said and went back to sleep. Mima looked at me smiled and turned over with her back to me, presumably to go back to sleep, I glanced at the clock, it was coming up to six. I felt extremely stupid and lay back down again. I cuddled into Simon’s back and felt his arm reach around behind him and drape itself over my hip. Knowing that he’d wake up unable to move his arm, I pushed it back and put my arm around his waist, he lightly held my hand.

I must have gone back to sleep, because I awoke with a small hand tickling my right breast–I was lying on my left side, still cuddled into Simon’s back. “Makin’ Mummy’s boobies better,” said a little voice and I tried not to laugh, except it tickled.

I suspect Simon was wakening because he squeezed my hand. “There, all better now,” said the voice and I heard Simon snigger. “Mima go for wee-wee,” and I felt her get off the bed.

“What was she doing?” asked Simon.

“Rubbing my boob, ever so gently.”

“Making it better?”

“So she said.”

“Where do they get these ideas?”

“How do I know? I’ve had her two weeks not two years.”

“I thought women knew all about babies by osmosis?”

“Like men do cars, you mean?” This was below the belt because I knew that Simon was not at all mechanically minded. He couldn’t tell a chain breaker from a spoke spanner.

“Touche, I suppose I asked for that?”

“Yeah, in a word. Hush, here she comes again.” The thunder of tiny hoofbeats stopped at the bed and she hefted herself in a again, only her feet were cold against mine and I so nearly squeaked.

“Bwwwwww,” she said shivering, and cuddled in tightly to me.

We lay for maybe a minute when she became restless. They talk about ants in your pants, but a Mima in your bed is far less restful, I can assure you.

She tapped my shoulder and I ignored her. Simon still held my hand and could imagine what was happening, he squeezed it every now and again. The tapping got harder and a voice said loudly, “Mummm-mmeeee, wake up, Mima wanna bwekies.” I could feel Simon tense as he tried not to laugh.

The assault on my shoulder was repeated, then she cheated–the little monster–she pinched my bottom. I jumped, “Ouch,” I squeaked bumping my tender chest into Simon’s back. Now I hurt in two places. Mima of course giggled or was it more like a cackle from an old witch?

I sat up in bed just in time to squash her hand which was moving towards my buttock. She yelled and withdrew it, “Naughty, Mummy,” she said and went to hit me.

“Ah ah,” I said firmly, “don’t you dare hit me.”

“Mummy sitted on Mima’s hand,” she said sniffing, “naughty, Mummy.”

“Maybe that will teach you not to pinch my bottom, then. It’s not nice to pinch a lady’s bottom, or any other part.”

“Mummy doesn’t love Mima no more,” she howled.

“Oops, I’ll leave you to sort this one out,” said Simon, hiding under the bed clothes.

Gee thanks! “Mima don’t be such a cry baby. Come on, let’s go and get some breakfast.”

“Mima don’ wannun.”

“Well, I’m going to get some, maybe you’d better cuddle with Daddy Simon,” I dashed out of the room before there was any reaction. Down in the kitchen, I put the kettle on and waited for the sound of movement from upstairs. There was none.

I made the tea and there was still none. I poured myself a cup of gnat’s pee as Simon calls it, and drank it. There was still no motion from upstairs. I ate my cereal and still no sound from my bedroom. I poured Simon a cup of the now stronger tea and took it upstairs.

“…more, Daddy, more.”

“Oh alright, this is the last one. Once upon a time, there was a little girl called Jemima, and…”

“…She pulled a fast one on her two foster parents. Cuppa?”

“Daddy telwin’ Mima storwies.”

“Oh yes, like what?”

“Mummy wons bike wace.”

“Tall stories are they, or do they include stabbings?”

“Shush,” said Simon, “the art of the storyteller is a dying one.”

“Only if said storyteller rubs his fiancee up the wrong way, in which case it will become a dying art very rapidly. I’m going in the shower, I expect you up by the time I come out.”

I strode out to the bathroom and after taking off my nightdress got into the bath and started the shower, a few moments later in got a small body, so I cooled the water a little. I washed her hair and gave her the flannel to wash her naughty bits.

“So this is what happens when I’m not here?” said Simon poking his head inside the curtain. Mima squealed and I just so happened to have the shower head in my hand, irrigated the source of the noise. Mima squealed again, this time with laughter.

Simon was all for getting in the shower as well, until I stopped him. “Just in case she hasn’t had any anatomy lessons, about male and female bodies,”

“I thought if they grew up with nudity, it no longer proved to be a problem.” Simon wasn’t really thinking this through.

“That might be the case in a natural family, but social services might see it differently. Very differently, as in abuse.”

“Oh lord, they wouldn’t would they?”

“Some of the man eaters they’ve sent round so far, yes and thrice yes.”

“But I’m a normal bloke, I don’t do disgusting things with or to children.”

“I know that, they don’t and I don’t want anything misconstrued.”

“That is abso-fu…”

“Language, dear, little piggies have big ears.”

“Oh fish!” he said in frustration.

I smiled at him, “Would you like to help dry our little guest?”

“Am I safe to do that?”

“Just wrap her in a bath towel and lift her out, I’ll do the rest while you shower.”

I heard him swearing to himself in the shower, “Absolutely….king ridiculous, I’m no….king pervert.”

“Language, dear,” I said loudly back to him.