The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2142 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“The best laid plans o’ mice and men gang aft a gley,” says the poet from my home town. Burns wasn’t born in Dumfries but he certainly lived and worked there and finally died there. Whereas, I was born there but moved south soon after.

I had planned to go home the next day, in fact we had tickets booked for Danni and I and little Lizzie to travel south, alas, the poet was right we couldn’t. Somehow, I’d succumbed to the chest infection which had laid me low before and instead of travelling, I was being treated with antibiotics and deemed too poorly to fly in Dr Sinclair’s professional opinion, I needed rest and lots of it.

Mrs Cuddy’s professional opinion was that I needed broth to keep my strength up and was having nearly as much of that shoved down me as I could swallow. Any more of it and I’ll end up looking like a piece of barley. Meanwhile, Lizzie, while still feeding from me, also had to be helped with some formula milk which Danni would give her, sitting beside my bed in a lovely old upholstered Queen Anne chair and smirking. “If they could see me in school now, I hate to think what they’d say.”

“They’d probably go on about teenage mums,” I joked though breathing and laughing were not such good fun.

“Kids my age don’t become mums, do they?”

“I’m afraid so–the Virgin Mary started quite a tradition, didn’t she?” I said before a fit of coughing took my breath away and I wet myself–that was twice while coughing today, not much but it’s so bloody irritating.

“The Virgin Mary? Jesus’s mother?”

“Yes, she was only about twelve or thirteen.”

“Jesus,” said Danni.

“Yep, that’s my boy, she said.”

“Ha ha,” replied my assistant baby looker-afterer, which woke Lizzie and she then filled her nappy.

“Oh shit,” said Danni.

“Exacty,” I replied and started coughing again. “Go and change her.”

“You’d better watch me then.”

I nodded and coughed again, my chest felt on fire but at least I wisnae awa’ wi’ thae fairies like last time. I had Danni lay Lizzie next to me while she went to get a clean nappy and some more plastic pants as well as wipes and creams etc.

While lying there wrapped up in a heavy quilt and blankets, I was now beginning to feel warm, possibly too warm. I recollected the end of the day of the remembrance service, we’d come home and I’d changed into some more casual clothes and had settled myself down by the fireside with a cup of tea when I started to shake uncontrollably, spilling the tea. I called Danny who in turn called Dunstan and he picked me up and carried me up to bed where Mrs Cuddy washed me and changed me before putting me to bed and calling Dr Sinclair.

I was just so cold and for a moment I thought I was going to die, but instead some antibiotics and lots of Mrs Cuddy’s broth and I felt quite a bit better, if still weak and wobbly.

Lizzie chuckled at me and I tickled her making silly faces and saying even sillier things. She laughed, then shrieked before saying, “Ma ma,” and I felt myself getting hot with embarrassment. Had I done it again–taken someone’s baby and imprinted myself on them.

Danni returned with the nappy and other paraphernalia and I watched as she laid the baby on the towel–we didn’t have a changing mat–and carefully pushed her clothes up out of the way before taking off the poo filled nappy and wiping her bum. Lizzie laughed and weed herself which sprayed everywhere and nearly had Danni running away.

“Why’d she have to do that, Mummy?”

“Babies do I’m afraid.”

“God it smells awful.”

“It does when you do it too.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to wipe it off my bum, do you?”

“I’ll bet someone did when you were her age.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Besides it’s good training, by the time I’m better you’ll be a past master at this.”

“Oh great,” she sighed and I sniggered.

“What’s so funny?”

“The look on your face.”

“Well I didn’t expect to have to do this, did I?”

“Girls do it all the time. How far did you take her in the pram?” I asked her about the walk she’d had earlier.

“Dunno, was out for about an hour.”

“Did you meet anyone?”

“I might have.”

“Wasn’t Richard Ralph, was it?”

She blushed beetroot, “Might have been,” she said very coyly, “Why?”

“He’s kissed all your lip-gloss off again.”

“What d’you mean, again?” she said blushing furiously.

“Same as he did yesterday.”

“How did–oh bugger.” She finished dressing Lizzie and gave her to me to hold. “Mummy, am I turning–you know gay?”

“I’m no expert on such things but did you feel like a girl or a boy when you kissed him?”

“A girl, I think–he certainly thinks I’m a girl.”

“So he’s not gay, and I suspect neither are you. Who kisses better, Richard or Cindy?”

“Richard–oh,” she blushed yet again.

“I see, what about Pia?”

“She kisses ok–um, how d’you know about these things?” She was still rather a cerise colour.

“It’s funny; boys tend only to experiment with girls as far as kissing goes, but girls kiss each other to learn what kissing feels like. It’s not an act of lesbianism but simple exploration of sex, whereas boys will masturbate each other without it being gay either. I suppose boys are more hands on,” I said and she nearly fell off the chair laughing–it took me a moment to see what I said that was so funny.

“I let Pia touch me, does that make me gay?”

“Touch you where?”

“Down below,” now there were moist eyes as well as blushes.

“Oh, well I said boys tend to touch each other more than kiss.”

“We kissed as well.”

“While both dressed as girls?”

She looked away, “Yes–I’m sorry, Mummy.”

“Sorry for what?”

“For doing it.”

“It’s part of growing up, kiddo, lots of people do it.”

“Did you?”

“No, I’m the exception to almost every rule. I was so inhibited as a child and so confused, I’d only kissed one man before I kissed Daddy and that was some car mechanic who literally stole a kiss off me while I was sitting in the car waiting for him to repair it.”

“He kissed you?”

“Yes, just leant in and kissed me as we were talking about cycling.”

“Wow, what happened?”

Now it was my turn to blush, “Uh–nothing,” I lied and she didn’t believe a word of it.

“What was his name?”

“Kevin.”

“Ah ha–you did like it, or you wouldn’t have remembered his name,” she accused gleefully.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it, just that it was a complete surprise and that confused me rather than clarified things.”

“Why, you’re a girl, aren’t you supposed to like kissing boys?”

“Back then, I’d spent less time as a girl than you have.”

“What about the times in school?”

“That was different–I was so on edge then, I couldn’t really enjoy it.”

“I enjoy it,” she admitted in a very small voice and I wondered what was going to happen when I recovered.