The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1462 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

Simon sulked for an hour or more–he avoided me and was short with the children. When he’s cross with me or them, they become my children. Meems actually came out crying after he told her off. I resisted the urge to roll up my sleeves and go and punch him on the nose because I assumed it would make matters worse.

When Tom finally came in from the garden he somehow noticed an atmosphere and asked me about it. I explained that Simon was suffering from PMT and being horrid to all of us. He washed his hands, poured out two glasses of Guinness and told me he’d sort it out. I left him to it.

Dinner was chicken supreme, or my version of it, essentially chicken bits in a white savoury sauce served with rice and in this case broad beans. For dessert, I made a strawberry flan, using a bought flan case, which I’d serve with ice cream–the kids would eat it anyway.

That was looking after itself so I went to my study and did a little on the mammal survey. I was quite a bit behind so any minutes I could spare were useful, Tom came past and saw what I was doing and smiled appreciatively–he doesn’t always say much but he misses very little.

He asked me if I’d like to do any teaching in the coming term–I agreed I’d do the odd hour here and there, mainly on ecology and ecosystems. I knew that’s where he was weakest on his staff cover, and I suppose it is my subject.

He also confided that he would send some of the second years in to listen to it because he wasn’t convinced they’d got a proper understanding in their first year. He went off to his study and returned with two essays–a quick scan showed they hadn’t got much from the course or from their textbooks or internet. I mean we have a whole section in the library on ecology and ecosystems–where do they think I got my information from–yeah, okay–I did some field work too. Maybe that’s what they need, some practical learning.

I went back to finishing the dinner and Tom and I discussed it while I worked, he agreed and asked me to lead some field studies. I told him on condition that he organised some babysitting. That got him huffing and puffing. Mind you the thought of facing class of spotty yoofs and girls wearing enough makeup to cover a battleship, all with a tremendously bored expression made me realise how little I’d missed it.

Then when I tell them I won’t allow them to do field trips in miniskirts and Ug boots, there will be groans and an undercurrent of chatter which I won’t be able to hear well enough to understand but it will disrupt the class.

I asked Tom if I could borrow some third years to assist on the field trips and he nodded, so that might be the answer. Oh well, something to look forward to–the next holiday period. Then I’ll have bored children at home–oh joy. Maybe I should drug them all and run away.

After dinner which went down quite well except one individual who suggested chicken curry might have been better use of the chicken, the children went to watch something on television while Jenny and I cleared the table. I watched her again and there was definitely something going on between her and Stella. Much more of the schoolgirl crush behaviour and I’d say something.

After I’d fed Catherine and played with her a little, Meems came in and she took over amusing her baby sister, while I called Danny in to try on some trousers I’d bought him. I had to take them up about an inch and he grumbled that he was missing his fave prog while I made him try on his new school shoes with the trousers.

“Fine, instead of me doing this, you can spend an hour every evening while I teach you to sew, and you can hem these yourself.” He suddenly went very quiet and stood remarkably still. If he’d called my bluff, I’d have made him do it–it’s how I learned–by messing about when my mother was trying to shorten my trousers and she did that to me. I learned how to do a very neat hemming stitch, then the next time I had some sewing to do, she made me do some of it–in the end I enjoyed it but didn’t tell her that. Then she caught me with the embroidery and we had that terrific row which culminated in my father beating me. I don’t think Danny’s in any danger of that from Simon, were he to take up embroidery.

The rest of the evening, I spent sewing name tags in the girl’s gym kit, even their socks. It’s such good fun and whiles away the time so quickly that my mood improved dramatically–no it didn’t, it is so bloody boring that I nearly fell asleep while I was doing it.

I sent them up to bed and checked on them about fifteen minutes later, I read them some of the most recent Gaby book and they all snuggled down and went to sleep, at least I left them to sleep and went to make myself a well earned cup of tea. Stella had gone out to get some batteries–for what, she didn’t say, according to Si who was doing the crossword in the paper.

Jenny was putting Fiona to bed and I asked her where Stella was. “Dunno, she mentioned something about having to go out for something or other.” She blushed as she spoke but I said nothing, I felt like reminding her that I paid her not Stella, but left it this time.

Stella came in as I was making my tea, “You could have said you were going out,” I said as a welcome to her.

“Since when have I got to get your permission?” she fired back.

“You don’t but we could have done with some more milk, Si forgot to get it yesterday.”

“Here,” she said and handed me a six pint bottle.

“You noticed?” I said smiling at her.

“No, Si asked me to get some.” With that she breezed past me and up the stairs.

I seem to be missing out on something–oh yeah, it’s called life. After my tea I set the bread maker off to make a loaf ready for the morning–I wanted it still hot enough to melt butter or the spread we use instead–low fat stuff supposedly safer and full of omega three oils and vitamin D. I do try to keep us healthy–well some of the time.

I did some more survey work and went to bed with a whodunit by Donna Leon, I barely got through the first page before I fell asleep dropping the book which hit Simon and he dropped his book on his crotch and severely injured his manhood–that’s what he said. When I offered to kiss it better, his pain seemed to pass instantly, so he missed out on that as well.

However, I’d been asleep and now awake again I found it difficult to get off again. I felt like making myself a hot drink but the memory of the last time made me think twice–mind you, if I catch that old crone near my kids–goddess or no goddess–she’ll end up in ICU.