The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1259 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

The last thing I remember last night was cleaning my teeth again before falling asleep. I completely zonked waking at about the same time as the alarm clock switched on the Today programme on Radio 4.

I listened to the news headlines before opening my eyes. I looked at Simon and he was awake and beaming at me. “You were good last night, Missus.”

I blushed. “This trouble in Egypt looks pretty serious,” I said latching on to the main story of the news bulletin.

“Wanna suck my lollipop?” he said and I immediately went even redder.

“If you tell anyone about last night, it will suddenly become a never repeated act.”

“Why? It’s what wives do for their husbands, lovers and so on.”

“I have to get up and get the girls ready for school.”

“Sure you don’t want a little lick? Just one mind you.”

“Simon, you’re heading for a punch on the nose.”

“Why, it’s only like licking an ice cream?”

“Is it now, and how would you know that?”

Now it was his turn to blush, “Well, that’s what they say, isn’t it?”

“I suspect, they, whoever they actually are, have only ever completed the theory part of the course.”

“Oh–so wasn’t it like, ice cream?” he looked crestfallen.

“Simon, ice cream is cold.”

“Oh yeah, how about baked Alaska?”

“That is meringue, Simon, the ice cream inside it is still cold.”

“Yeah, okay.” He hesitated, “Was it nice for you?”

“Simon, I wish you’d think before you speak.” I went to the bathroom thinking, I need to take my own advice–if I had, I wouldn’t be facing this interrogation now.

I showered and after towelling myself dry slipped on some clothes. He was still lying in bed with a beatific smile on his face. I shook my head. What is it with boys and their toys?

I roused the girls who were all awake and reading. “Are we all going to have a lollipop or ice cream from Daddy, Mummy?” asked Trish.

“You shouldn’t listen to other people’s conversations, it’s rude,” I said ordering them into the shower. Half an hour later I had four girls dried and dressed as I plaited their nearly dry hair. Billie’s was growing quite quickly, mind you I hadn’t thought too much about it before, when it looked scruffy I used to ask Stella to trim it.

Danny followed us down the stairs shouting something back at Julie as he did. Breakfast was organised chaos or should that be chaotic organisation? Then again everyone got fed and watered, even I had time for a cuppa, some toast and a banana.

“No porridge today?” observed Simon as he came into the kitchen. I could smell my shower gel on him–I must remember to get some more of his, then he won’t use mine. I glared at him and he smiled at me.

I bustled about the kitchen making sure everyone had eaten as much as they should when Julie darted off to go to the salon, taking the sandwich I’d made for her–she loves peanut butter–horrible stuff–but then I don’t have to eat it, and it isn’t exactly arduous to slap on a couple of pieces of wholemeal bread, pop in a bag with some crisps an apple and a chocolate bar. She snatched her lunch box, pecked me on the cheek, “Thanks, Mummy, you’re a star,” she disappeared out to get her scooter and off to work.

Simon had just settled down to eat his cereal–mushy Weetabix, when Trish dropped her bombshell. “May I have a lollipop like you gave to Mummy?”

It’s going to take weeks to get the Weetabix off the fridge and the worktops.

I quietly left the room while he talked his way out of that one. I just had to go to the loo and I couldn’t hold the laughter any longer. I sat weeing, biting on a towel as I felt the tears roll down my cheeks. Poor Simon, he nearly choked to death and all I wanted to do was laugh–it was so funny.
I managed to control myself, wash my face, again, and pop on a bit of lippy and mascara. I used a bright red lipstick and when I went back into the kitchen I caught Simon alone and pretended to lick something. He went deep beetroot before withdrawing to finish getting dressed for work.

“You don’t usually wear red lipstick, Mummy,” observed Livvie.

“It goes quite well with my red jacket don’t you think?” I had on a red, worsted Laura Ashley jacket.

“I think it wooks sexy, Mummy.” We all knew what Meems thought, quite why she thought it, I wasn’t sure.

“Daddy says you’re sexy, Mummy?” How I missed the cyclist, I’ll never know. but Billie’s comment made me momentarily lose it. Did Simon discuss me with the children? I hoped not.

“What d’you mean, darling?” I fired back hopefully as casually as I could make it sound.

“He told us you are the sexiest woman alive.” Billie repeated.

“Did he now?” I’m not sure I like being compared with anyone but at least he was defending me.

“Yeah, there was a thing on the internet with Rhianna doing her stuff and she’s supposed to be super sexy, we all watched it and Cheryl Cole’s new one and asked Daddy which was sexier? He said you were the sexiest woman alive.”

“I’m not sure you should be watching those sorts of videos, girls–they can give the wrong impression of how to behave.”

“We have competitions in the lunch break to see who can do the sexiest wiggle and walk.” I thanked Livvie for this information and wondered if I should say something to the headmistress. I didn’t want my six and ten year old children to become sex objects–at the same time, providing they were treating it like a game, I couldn’t say too much–it would only make things worse. Life is such a quandary.

I saw them to the school and went back to grab some shopping on the way home. When I arrived at home delighted that I’d got a three pack of glossy tights for a bargain price when Stella met me at the door.

“What’s the matter?”

“The school rang, can you go and see them, Danny’s been fighting.” Stella shrugged and took the shopping.

“Can you make a new loaf, Stella? I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I walked briskly back to the car and drove straight to Danny’s school.

I spoke to the secretary, “Hello, I’m Danny Maiden’s mother, someone rang home about him having been involved in a fight.”

“Oh yes, he’s at the hospital.”

“What? What happened?” The word knife came to mind and I almost imagined him lying somewhere bleeding profusely.

“I’m not sure, but he got bumped on the nose and we couldn’t stop it bleeding, so one of the teachers took him to the QA.”

“Why was he fighting?”

“I don’t know, Mrs Maiden.”

“Actually, my name is Cameron, not Maiden.”

“Oh, sorry.” She looked at something on her computer, “Oops, we have that down too, sorry about that, Lady Cameron.” She apologised with her mouth but her look was one of why isn’t he in a private school?

“I’m a Guardian reader,” I said and went back into the corridor where I called the QA and spoke to A&E. They’d patched him up and he was either on his way home or back to school. I’d just cancelled that call and about to phone Stella when she rang me.

“He’s home, with two lovely shiners and a very red nose.”

“I’m just going to try and find out what this was all about from the school’s point of view.”

“I see, so if it’s not satisfactory, you gonna send him to the convent, too?”

“I think that may be pushing the envelope a bit too hard.” I rang off and waited to speak with the teacher in charge of the play ground who was presumably the one on duty when the fracas happened.

I turned around when I heard the secretary telling someone I was waiting in the corridor and nearly fell over.

“Well, well, Charlie Watts, you have changed.” We recognised each other immediately.