Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1666

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The Daily Dormouse.
(aka Bike)
Part 1666
by Angharad

Copyright © 2012 Angharad
All Rights Reserved.
  
-Dormouse-001.jpg

Glancing at the Guardian, my Guardian, Tom had left on the table I was reminded of the World Track Cycling championships at the Easter weekend. Now I had to work out how I could find some time to see them, or parts of them. I know the BBC website always carries bits of races we win, but it’s not the same as seeing it live.

My phone peeped and Queen’s Bicycle Race rang out–yeah, I know corny, but Si arranged it. It made Catherine jump where she’d dozed at my nipple and she nearly bit the whole thing off before she burst into tears.

I handed her to Jacquie who seemed to do well to quieten her enough for me to take the call. “Hi, Si.” I said pulling my top down over my naked breast.

“Hi, Babes, look we’re invited to some interbank thingy next weekend.”

“That’s Easter weekend?” I queried.

“That’s the one.”

“Who is we, exactly?”

“Us–you me, children–you know, those small human looking creatures you feed and take to school.”

“Why?”

“It’s something the London clearing banks put on for their directors and senior managers.”

“What about the lesser staff?”

“Oh they get a day out in Brighton in October or something, why?”

“Thanks but no thanks.”

“But you don’t know what you’re missing.”

“Patronage and favouritism. If I wanted a weekend of meeting non-entities, I could go away to Lanzarote.”

“Yeah, but then you’d have to pay for it.”

“I pay for it whatever happens.”

“No, the banks pay for it.”

“Darling, the banks only pay for things with mine and other customer’s money.”

“No you profit from the other customer’s money, remember–it pays for me and I pay for you.”

“Either way, I don’t want to go–byee.”

“Cathy, don’t hang up.”

“Why, I have a baby to change.”

“What for, I like the one we have already–no let’s keep her.”

“Okay, I quite like her too–byee.”

“Cathy, please don’t hang up.”

“Why, I told you I have things to do? D’you think your shirts iron themselves, or your dinner cooks itself?”

“What’s Jacquie doing?”

“Holding the baby at this very moment, why?”

“Can’t she cook the baby and change the dinner?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, how could you change the dinner–I organised what we’re eating days ago.”

“Okay, okay–I don’t want too much baby.”

“You’ll take what you’re given and be grateful.”

“Can’t we have cottage pie again? I love your cottage pie.”

“No, it’s beef hotpot.”

“With dumplings?”

“Probably, why?”

“You have delightful dumplings, Babes.”

“Yeah, one has tooth marks in it from the baby I was feeding before my stupid phone ringtone frightened her to death.”

“I’ll kiss it better when I get home.”

“If I let you.”

“Natch. Now this weekend...”

“No, I’ve planned an egg rolling event, all of Trish and Meems classes are coming.”

“Where?”

“Here, why?”

“How are they going to park all those cars there?”

“Children that age don’t drive, silly.”

“No the children, their parents.”

“I didn’t invite the parents, just the kids.”

“Oh–okay. When did you plan it?”

“Oh ages ago.”

“Did you? Who’s paying for it?”

“You, why?”

“Just wondered.”

“Just popping the baby in the oven, stuffing or not?”

“What flavour?”

“What goes best with babies?”

“Talc and baby lotion with chives.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Okay. Byee.”

“Cathy, seriously, what about next weekend?”

“Is this in celebration of Easter?”

“Probably, why?”

“I don’t celebrate pagan feast days disguised as Christian ones, even if I don’t have a Nisan.”

“Nissan? What on earth has a Jap car got to do with Easter?”

“I don’t know, it all passes over me.”

“Cathy, can you talk some sense?”

“I was in school with a boy whose surname was Pask, he was Welsh or Cornish or something.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Pask is Cornish for Easter, based on the Hebrew term Pesach.”

“Yeah, so?”

“How would you like to go through life with the name Ivel Easter.”

“His first name was Ivel?”

“Yes, like the saint.”

“That is criminal.”

“Why, you’re named from one of the apostles, Peter whose name was Simon.”

“No, I’m named after the local pie-maker.”

“That explains a lot.”

“It’s what my father told me when I asked.”

“I thought you told me it was your Grandfather’s favourite name.”

“Yeah, for his dog.”

“Well I think it’s an admirable name for a dog.”

“Dogs don’t usually become admirals, Cathy.”

“What about sea dogs?”

“Okay, I stand corrected yet again. Next time I’ll marry someone less clever.”

“Next time?”

“Yeah, after you divorce me for insisting we go to this bank thing.”

“What about my egg rolling?”

“What about it?”

“You’re prepared to break the hearts of thirty little girls?”

“I’m a banker, Cathy, it’s what I do for a living–you know horrible usurer and all that.”

“Damn, I forgot–must have been thinking about egg rolling.”

“Can’t you have it another weekend?”

“No, it’s all about the Easter Bunny laying eggs for the kids to find.”

“That’s American?”

“So?” I challenged.

“Anyway, bunnies don’t lay eggs.”

“Who is the biologist here?”

“I think I’m safe in asserting that bunnies don’t lay eggs.”

“Not even the Easter Bunny?”

“No, no bunnies do.”

“I see, did you appreciate that hares are associated with the goddess Eostre?”

“Even if they are, it’s still chickens that lay eggs, not bunnies.”

“In the sense of hen’s eggs yes, but isn’t depositing things on the ground gently, also laying?”

“Not eggs, they are laid by chickens.”

“I see, so ducks don’t lay eggs then?”

“Okay, ducks lay eggs too.”

“And geese?”

“Okay, geese as well.”

“And crocodiles?”

“Do they lay eggs?”

“Of course they do, it’s a characteristic of most reptiles–it’s where birds got the habit from–you know they’re really feathered dinosaurs?”

“You’re not having a crocodile laying the eggs then–for the children–it could be more challenging than a bunny?”

“No, it’s too late. Have you ever thought why brickies are so bad tempered?”

“No, I assumed it was something to do with eating cement or something.”

“Could just be laying bricks, I mean, that shape is hardly conducive to being laid, is it? Mind you oval ones would fall out of the walls–hmm.”

“Cathy, what about this weekend?”

“You asked me that before.”

“Yeah, so I’m asking you again.”

“On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You dress up as the Easter bunny the following week and lay all the eggs for the kids to find?”

“Is that negotiable?”

“No.”

“I’ll tell the bank we can’t make it.”

“Oh, and just as you were getting me interested, and we hadn’t even got to Quartodecimanism.”

“Ah no, I’m allergic to anything with nuts–quite how I married you, is a mystery?”

“I have to go and baste the baby, bye, darling.”

“Tell ’em we can’t go, no you don’t want to know why...” I heard him tell his secretary before he ran off.

“Mummy, you are so funny,” said Jacquie.

“Nah, Si’s the funny one, remember you only heard half the conversation.”

“So have you organised the egg-rolling thing?”

“What egg rolling thing?”

“You told Daddy you had?”

“Did I? I suppose you’d better get on and do it then.”

“Mee?” she squealed.

“Yes, get the baby to help, she’s quite good at organising things.”

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