The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1119 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

Simon came and watched me feeding the wee yin, and again I asked him if he’d not like to be able to do it. He shook his head, “Nah, I’m just waiting to see if there’s enough for my cornflakes.”

“One of these days, O lord and master,” I began but then thought better of it.

“One of these days what?” he queried.

“Ouch, you little bugger–can’t remember, next time I want one of these without teeth,” I indicated the little baggage suckling my breast.

“That would mean she’d have to suckle you for a long time.”

“Um–true, okay, I’ll have to put up with IT,” I squealed as she chewed on my nipple again–not helped by the way she giggled afterwards, mind you, so did Simon.

“Is there anything to recommend being a woman?” he asked.

“I could say the same about men,” I retorted hoping he wouldn’t bring up that I’d tried and failed miserably.

“That’s where you fail to see the delights of watching all this sort of stuff and enjoying it, but as a spectator sport. Plus of course, I get to make love to a beautiful woman reasonably often.”

“Does she know about your wife and wains?”

“Um–maybe not,” he sighed, “dammit, if she finds out it’ll be over.”

“I won’t say anything then.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

“Mummy would you like a cuppa, ’cos Auntie Stella’s making one?”

“Thank you, Billie, I’d love one.”

“Don’t I get one?” Simon piped up as Billie was heading back to the kitchen.

“Sorry, Daddy, she didn’t tell me ask you as well.”

He sighed and shook his head, “I hope your convent can induce some brain activity, because it looks as if the state system signally failed.”

I hushed him, “She’s got a big enough inferiority complex now, don’t make it bigger.”

“Sorreeee,” he whispered back at me.

Stella came in with two mugs of tea, “Wotcha last slave die of then?” she demanded of Simon.

“I didn’t beat her enough, apparently.”

“At what?” she asked back as quick as a flash.

“Ludo,” he said and sighed again.

“I see girls outnumber boys in every aspect of academia except failure.”

“I think that research is sexist,” complained Simon.

“Sexist? How can that be?”

“It’s not comparing like with like.”

“Yes it is, it’s comparing the statistics relating to the number of boys and girls taking exams and getting university places.”

“So are you telling me that boys and girls are the same?”

“Not at all. The exams they take are though.”

“Still like comparing apples and pears.” Simon was on a wind up and for once Stella hadn’t spotted it. Mind you he was dancing on thin ice, not simply treading on it.

I listened, because I couldn’t go anywhere and also because it can be quite funny at times. Today it wasn’t and she stormed out in a huff, whereupon he dissolved in a fit of laughter.

“One of these days, you two’ll grow up somewhat.”

“Heaven forbid,” he shot back, “having a sister has got to give you some perks.”

“What’s happening at the bank?” I asked, wishing to learn what was going to happen with our latest appointee and latest vacancy.

“Hopefully, it’s making loadsa money, it’s what they do,” he said blithely and sipped his tea.

“I mean with Erica’s job and Howard’s absence.”

“Oh yes, I’m glad you mentioned it–I’m afraid I’ve had to scrap your PA’s job and Erica will help by covering some of Howard’s duties–under supervision of course.”

“Oh, glad you mentioned it.”

“Well, I know she was a bit in awe of my beautiful wife, so I thought it better she if she worked with someone else.”

“Very funny,” I replied sarcastically.

“Well it’s only due to my good lady’s intervention that this girl has a job at all.”

I couldn’t argue with that could I? “D’you think she’ll work out about my past?”

“Dunno–I mean it’s there if she looks for it, but why should she?”

“How would I know? Like you said, it’s out there if you know where to look.”

“Besides, it’s all ancient history now–I mean, you’re legally female–so who cares? If it’s still an issue, bring the baby in with you, and sit and breastfeed in the lobby. That should silence any dissenters.”

“Or fire them up.”

“C’mon, Cathy, this is old stuff, do we have to revisit it every five minutes? We all love and accept you, so who the hell else matters?”

“Sorry, I guess my self-acceptance isn’t as complete as I thought.”

“Surely the fact that I married you says something, doesn’t it?”

“I hope it meant you loved me.”

“Yes, but that I loved you as my woman–I’m not into marrying men.”

“Maybe you should try it–works for me,” I teased back.

He glowered back at me, “I think I’ll pass on that.”

“No fighting, you two,” said Stella passing by the door.

“We’re not. We’re discussing the fall out over Howard’s resignation,” I corrected her.

“What–Howard the bigot has resigned? That’s got to be good, hasn’t it?”

“He’s got HIV,” Simon added.

“Oh–not so good–he’s not gay is he?”

“No, he caught it from a prostitute in Nairobi.”

“Stupid man, serves him right.”

“I did try to point that out to him,” said Simon, “that he had no one but himself to blame.”

“How long ago was that?”

“About five years, why?”

“He should have known that most prostitutes in Africa carry HIV-AIDS.”

“He said she was absolutely beautiful,” I suggested.

“So is fly agaric, but I wouldn’t eat it–would you?” she replied.

“Amanita muscaria no thanks, although they used to in Siberia or somewhere up that way, they used to dry it and eat it then drink their own urine because it makes the hallucinogens even stronger.”

“Silly buggers–I s’pose it passed the odd long dark winter’s night.”

“Apparently, it’s where the idea of Father Christmas coming down chimneys comes from, because these shaman types lived in huts where the chimney was a doorway.”

“Ugh–apart from the alkyloids in the fungus, I wonder if they could see across the room through all the smoke.”

“I’ll bet it was draughty,” I switched the snoozing baby to my other breast.

“Can we talk about something much more interesting?” asked Simon.

“Like what?” snapped Stella.

“Like–what’re we having for dinner?”

“I hadn’t actually decided,” I said, moving the baby again.

“How about pizzas, Simon’s turn to pay,” chuckled Stella dodging the cushion he flung at her.

“Careful, you nearly hit the grandfather clock.” I blushed, if he had Tom would not have been pleased. Stella picked up the cushion and blushing, handed it back to her sibling.

“How about a Chinese take away?” asked Simon.

“Okay,” I agreed, “there’s a menu by the phone.”

“Nah, I’ll order the set meal for six, that’ll feed about ten,” which is what he did and very nice it was too, even if it did set him back a fair bit–but they did deliver and all I had to do was help clear up afterwards, so almost a night off for me–and that meant I had extra time to do some work on the survey around putting the kids to bed. All in all, a fairly successful day.