The Weekly Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 3287 by Angharad Copyright© 2021 Angharad

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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
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I was right about Simon, he had one thing on his mind after we'd finished dinner, and it wasn't a cup of tea. I decided I didn't want any wine tonight, I just had water and then a cuppa but he, Daddy, Sammi and Stella drank a bottle of Australian red between them, so that wasn't too bad, one glass each.

Simon can be incredibly subtle or rather crass. Tonight was the latter. He pretended to yawn and nudged me saying, "Let's have an early night, Babes, I'm sure you could do with one."

"One what?" said Trish, "She'll be walking funny again tomorrow, can't think why," then she ran out giggling while I blushed to the roots of my hair.

"What did she mean?" asked Simon and Stella nearly choked to death on her tea.

"Never mind her," I said dismissively and began clearing up the dishes. Why do we say, dishes? It was mostly plates, glasses and cups. But we wash the dishes in a dish-washer. Strange language, English.

"If you need to ask, you're too dumb to do it," Stella told her brother.

"No, I'm asking genuinely." Simon might have been the one who met the pie-man.

"Think about what you want to do a little later," Stella gave him a generous clue.

He stopped and thought about it, "But that implies it hurts her," he said in a surprised tone, yet she tells me she enjoys it."

"Would you prefer the truth?" said the younger sibling to her brother.

"My God, why didn't you tell me, babes?" he gasped as I returned to the table.

"Tell you what?" I asked oblivious to the previous conversation.

"That - you know - hurts you." He was blushing and I'm sure there were some tears in his eyes.

"Eh?"

"You know, " blushed even redder and I think I could feel the radiant heat being given off by him.

"Know what?" I asked trying to work out what he was on about.

"He means sex, he didn't know it hurts you." Stella administered the coup de grace.

"It doesn't always, what's this about anyway?"

"Trish's comment, that you'd be walking funny tomorrow," Stella clarified.

"Oh that, it's nothing, but she seems obsessed with sex at times even though she'd run a mile if the opportunity arose for her to indulge." I was rather glad to say, or at least think hoping it was true. Kids are fascinated by things which are taboo for them and they know it's an easy score to drop words or expressions about it, in front of their parents knowing they cause embarrassment and pandemonium while they rush off imagining the uproar they leave behind and giggling while they go. "Don't take any notice of her, she's just trying to get a reaction."

Simon still looked upset.

"Look, I'm fine if you don't get too carried away."

"I'm sorry, babes, I just don't think, I want you so badly and I assume you want the same."

"I do, but I prefer it more gently than you do."

"Okay, I'll be gentle with you tonight."

"Thank you, darling," I said and kissed him on the lips.

"Get a room you two," said Stella rising from the table and filling the kettle again. "Tea, anyone?"

"Please I called back, detaching myself from the kiss." I was now feeling quite randy so would have to be careful not to drink too much fluid or I'd be weeing all night.

The three of us were drinking tea and talking when Sammi returned to the kitchen and making herself some tea before coming to sit with us. "What happened with the ransomware attack?" she asked me.

"Oh, gramps and I found the culprit and Gramps suspended him. We confiscated the computer and handed it over to the police. He could be sacked if it proves that you were right.

"If it showed up on a computer, that was the guilty one. My software just follows back the trail to its origins, nothing fancy, so little to go wrong with it. Wasn't Gemmell was it?"

I can't tell you that, sweetheart, sort of sub judice."

"Okay, just tell me if it wasn't him."

"I can't do that either."

"Thanks, Mummy, that is enough info." Her eyes sparkled.

"You didn't set him up did you?"

"No, it's a genuine tracker program which none of the big techie companies know about yet, though I've been tracking stuff from the chairman for months."

"You are so clever," I said before pecking her on the cheek. "What does Trish want?"

"She wanted me to show her how to do something."

"Nothing illegal is it?"

""Eh? No, of course not."

"So how come she can't do something for herself?"

"Because it's something she can't yet do and once I show her she'll be able to do it, just like you, Mummy, before you knew how to cut and paste."

"You mean to say, she does know how to cut and paste?" said Simon trying to be funny. It was almost predictable as was my shove to his shoulder in retaliation. That he was still drinking his tea and it tipped the mug depositing some rather hot fluid into his lap wasn't deliberate. The speed at which he jumped to his feet and started dancing would have been comical except we knew he was trying to remove the scalding tea from a very sensitive place. Which made it doubly funny.

Why we laugh when that part of a man is threatened with imminent disaster, I can't explain, but we do. Footballs, tennis balls, even dogs and cats colliding with someone's groin is always funny for everyone else, except the victim. If it's self-inflicted, it's even funnier, like a golf ball ricocheting off a tree and back to the golfer at groin height must be excruciating but not for everyone else. For the rest of us, the excruciating bit is only if we laugh too much and pull something.

Youtube and that stupid TV programme about showing cock-ups captured on video would be very short of funnies if it weren't for men's groins and their contact with fast-moving spherical objects. To claim it's a load of balls, is possibly an over-simplification that says so much.

Simon's injury brought the house down when Stella, who'd dashed off, returned with a bag of frozen peas and held them against his damaged pride and joy - the squeal he gave as the cold bag met his overly warm appendages woke up the cat who was asleep beside the radiator. Stella joked it was so high pitched, the hot tea may have melted his manhood and he was now singing soprano.

It also got a snigger when our victim, who was sitting with a cold damp cloth over his naked groin, under a towel, declined when I suggested that perhaps we should go to bed early. He seemed completely unamused by it, compared to everyone else.

When Trish, who had been unaware of the kitchen table tragedy, as opposed to a kitchen sink one, asked what everyone was laughing at and Stella said loudly, "It won't be your mother who'll be walking funny in the morning."

When Trish asked what she meant, she simply said, "Your mother steamed cleaned your dad's wotsits." Trish glanced at him sitting there with the towel over his otherwise naked lower body and burst into laughter, dashing off to tell the others.

"Thanks for humiliating me in front of my children," snapped Simon at his sister, who replied it was her pleasure and started laughing again.

The rest of the youngsters came to see what was going on and all except Meems, laughed. She stood alongside him and said, "Never mind, Daddy, you can always borrow one of Grampa's skirts." That set everyone off again, except Gramps who 'wisnae amused' at the mislabelling of his kilt, even though it was technically correct as a kilt is really just a skirt with pleats and a few bits of leather stitched to the sides and an optional bag in the front to draw the eye of the observer to where something is frequently declared as 'being in perfect working order' rather than being worn. I wasn't sure about it being applicable to Simon's sub-sporran attributes; at least not tonight.

"Will you still be able to take me up to Reading, tomorrow?" asked Danielle once she'd stopped laughing.

"I don't know why I should," said Simon in a hurt voice, "all you lot have done is jeer at my injuries."

I nodded at her that he would. "But if he's in pain?" she queried.

"He can drive up with a towel over his lap and his bits in an ice bucket," offered Stella, which brought another round of hilarity from everyone but my poor husband.

"If Daddy is too injured to take you tomorrow, I'll take you," offered Sammi. Which caused Trish to look crestfallen. "I'll show you how to do that afterwards," Sammi said to her sister's gurning face, which made Danni snort and giggle pointing at her younger sister as she did so before Trish stamped her foot, turned around and flounced out of the room, causing even Simon to laugh this time.