The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1924 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“So, what time do we expect Sammi back from this course?” I asked my husband, lover, partner, other half, umm–wossisname–oh yeah, damn I’ve forgotten it again.

“Friday evening.”

“What? She could be a drug addict by then.”

“Cathy, I think you might be acting a trifle hysterically.”

“Well they all smoke like chimneys, use cannabis and snort coke–all to stay thin and suppress their appetites.”

“I don’t think they all do it, but if one believes the stories in the press, it does seem some have drug or alcohol habits.”

“Alcohol is fattening, dope isn’t.”

“Okay, you’ve made your point but as we agreed the other night, she has to be allowed to make her own mistakes and deal with the consequences.”

“You said it was our job to help her deal with the consequences.”

“Yeah, but we give her a chance to deal with them first or at least realise there are some. Most of the kids of today have had it too easy.”

“I’m not sure you could say that about anyone who’s gender dysphoric.”

“Okay, but you know what I mean–let’s go to bed.”

“It’s only half past eight, Simon, Danny and Julie are still watching the telly.”

“So–providing they switch it off–does it matter?”

“Yes, Danny has to go to school and Julie has to work tomorrow.”

“Okay, wait here.” He walked off to the lounge, “Don’t be late to bed–you, young lady, have to work and–you, sunshine, have school.”

I heard the muttered response. Simon reappeared and we went up to bed.

“Where is Sammi staying while she does this course?”

“It includes accommodation–they do it in some central London hotel.”

“I don’t like this one bit.”

“Cathy, for goodness sake, she’s been away at university–she can cope–she’s a big girl now.”

“No she isn’t, she’s a novice.”

“Oh well, she’ll get some benefit out of the course then won’t she, even if she doesn’t do modelling afterwards.”

I couldn’t argue with his logic, although I felt uneasy about his subject. We went to bed but I couldn’t relax enough to let him have his wicked way–in the end I relieved him, and then went off to wash my hands. He went off to sleep a short while later and I lay there trying to send a covering of light to my absent and wilful daughter.

I think I fell asleep because Simon sneezed loudly and woke me up–he was still asleep. I hope it was Si who sneezed–can you sneeze whilst asleep? There was the sneeze again and Simon was fast asleep–it wasn’t him. Oh poo.

I slipped out of the bed and crept to the bedroom door, opening it almost silently. There was another sneeze and I pulled open the door and Danny who was wiping his nose on a tissue almost jumped into the air.

“It’s you who’s sneezing?”

“Yes, Mum, sorry, did I wake you?”

“Yes you did–what time d’you call this?”

“Midnight.”

I thought it was later than that. “Why are you so late?”

“The film was longer than we thought.”

“Get off to bed then, and no mucking about in the morning, you’ll need to be up and out.”

“Yeah, okay.” He went off to his bedroom up the next flight of stairs and I heard his door close quietly. I went for a wee while I was up and then back to bed. I now felt quite cold and was glad to cwtch with my lord and master–he’s like an electric blanket. I did finally go to sleep when I got warm, so half an hour or so later. Danny and Julie were predictably difficult to get up. Julie is an adult now, so she can stay up if she wants to–she doesn’t usually; but Danny is still a child despite his insistence that he isn’t. He tries too hard sometimes to be the man of the house when Simon is away. I do try to point out that Tom is still here and it is his house, but Danny is beginning to assert himself–so there will be a few battles to come with him and the girls.

He was now coughing as well as sneezing, and I did think about keeping him home but he had some test or other to do and was insistent about going. For a moment I did wonder if the right kid had come home last night.

They sent him home after lunch, well they phoned home and I went to get him and bring him home. He looked and sounded awful. I dosed him with lemon juice and honey in hot water and gave him some vitamin C pills to take, then sent him off to bed–he must have been ill, he didn’t protest.

When I got home with the girls, Trish dashed up to see if she could help him with her healing powers–I don’t know if she did, but the next day, he felt better and she had it–the cold I mean. I kept her home from school that day–which became a week and still she was quite rough and began running a temperature. At which point I gave her Calpol and called the doctor. He called by just before he went to his evening surgery.

He told me to carry on as I was but to keep an eye on her, and if she got any worse I was to start giving her the antibiotics he’d prescribed. That meant someone had to go to the pharmacy and get them. I got Jacquie to keep an eye on the lot of them while I dashed down to Boots and filled the prescription. If she didn’t improve in twenty four hours, I was to send for him again.

I moved her into the spare room to avoid giving it to the other girls, but she did and within a day, I had a houseful of patients, the work load of which doubled when Simon got it as well. Florence Nightingale I am not, more your Florence from the Magic Roundabout.

However, I kept going, and was the only one of the family not to catch it–I was taking zinc tablets and perhaps it was them which prevented me catching the bug–I suppose I’ll never know.

Sammi arrived home on the Friday evening which slightly surprised me. “How was the course?” I asked hoping to try and mend some fences.

“Oh don’t, Mummy, the first day there I went down with the Noro virus and was projectile vomiting everywhere.”

“Luvly,” I said. I must have done, I heard it quite clearly. “So you haven’t done the course then?”

“I did the first morning and you were quite right, Mummy, I hated it.”

“Sometimes I know best,” I said and she nodded, what she didn’t hear was me adding under my breath, ‘and sometimes I’m as lost as a sperm in a fallopian tube.’