The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1925 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“What’s been happening here?” Sammi asked me.

“I’ve been nursing all of them with some sort of cold virus, they’ve all been coughing and sneezing.”

“But you didn’t get it?”

“No, I reckon my antivirus program must be working.”

“Yeah,” she paused then looked at me, “What are you on about?”

“The antivirus program, it seems to be working, I put the box over my head when I look after the others and so far I haven’t caught it.”

She looked at me in astonishment. “You are absolutely bonkers, Mummy.”

“You noticed, perhaps I need to put the box on my head again.”

She roared with laughter and we hugged when she’d finished. “I missed you an’ Dad’s humour.”

“What like a hole in the head?”

“No, seriously...”

“How can you have serious humour?” I interjected.

“Muuuum, please let me finish. All of the tutors and their sycophantic helpers were so far up their own arses, that I knew I’d made a mistake within an hour or two. We had lunch and I was taken ill. I went back to the hotel and stayed there, sleeping when I wasn’t upchucking. Then the last day or so, I did some work on my laptop for an idea I’d had about one of the bank’s security software–I think it closes a potential weakness in the access codes, but I’ll need to speak to my boss about it. I’ve been using Python 3, it’s quite good for solving problems.”

“Can’t say I know much about herpetology.”

“What? Herpes? What are you on about?”

“Reptiles, I do mammals remember–know very little about pythons–they had one at uni they called Monty, for obvious reasons–until she laid some eggs.”

“Python is a programming language.”

“Oh, I thought you were talking about snakes.”

“No–I can’t stand snakes–all slimy and horrible.”

“Um–actually they’re not at all slimy, they can have quite rough skins in places, but they’re dry unless they’ve been swimming.”

“Swimming? I thought they wriggled along the ground?”

“Some do, some swim in ponds and ditches like grass snakes, and some swim very well, such as sea snakes which are very venomous.”

“I don’t think I’ll go swimming in the sea again–there isn’t a swimming pool snake is there?”

“Apart from the trouser variety and they tend to shrivel up in the chlorinated water.”

“There’s a trouser snake? Why do they call it that, it doesn’t climb up people’s trouser legs does it?”

“Why don’t you look it up?” I said trying not to smirk. Like Trish, this kid is very bright, but so uninformed at times it’s hard to believe she can tie her shoelaces.

“Anything to eat? I’m starved.”

“I could do you a jacket spud.”

“Brilliant, I’ll go and change.” She went upstairs and I went out into the kitchen, where David and Ingrid had gone early–they were having a day off tomorrow and as no one was very hungry, I sent them off early. It didn’t take me more than a couple of minutes to pop a large spud in the microwave and zap it. While it was cooking I go out the pack of grated cheese and when the pinger went, I checked the potato was cooked and cut it open, dropped in a knob of butter and then sprinkled the cheese into the gash. I finished it off with some salad garnish and a couple of cherry tomatoes. Sammi came down as I placed it on the table.

“Oh that is great, thanks, Mummy. Have we any pickle?”

I handed her the large jar of Branston and asked if she wanted some tea. Her mouth was busy munching Maris Piper, so she nodded. I switched the kettle on.

Over a mug of tea we chatted about her life in general. She was mostly happy but part of her had wanted to show she could be just as beautiful as bio women, and just as sexy. As usual, it’s this deep streak of inferiority we have about our pedigrees. I know I do it–you must all be aware of it as well–I’ve documented it often enough. Despite my own inadequacies in dealing with it, I tried to suggest that Sammi was every bit as lovely as most other pretty women and didn’t need to overcompensate on the sexy or beautiful bit.

“It’s alright for you, Mummy–you are female and beautiful with it.”

“I’m female–but only because I said I was and the gender panel agreed with me.”

“But you look so natural, and the breast feeding–I mean–you’re a woman, everybody knows it.”

“I’m sure they think the same about you.”

“I had some guy rubbing my bum on the tube the other night.”

I felt angry about this. “What did you do?”

“I moved my computer bag rather sharply and his eyes watered. He moved along a bit afterwards. One of the other women said 'Well done' to me, he was pestering her before.”

“How did you know it was him?”

“The trouser snake gave him away.” She blushed.

“Ah, so you looked it up.”

“Yes, I must be so dumb–I mean it’s obvious.”

“So was I. I remember being at a party and they all thought I was a girl.”

“You are.”

“Yeah, well back then I was wearing jeans and polo shirt.”

“Oh, see–even when you weren’t trying, your femininity shone through.”

“It was my long hair, I expect. I got it cut to go to uni but immediately started growing it again.”

“It is very lovely hair, Mummy.”

I shrugged–it was nice and thick I suppose and grew like wildfire. But you tend to take things for granted when they were ever thus. “Anyway, this guy had me practically cornered and it was a few minutes before I realised he was chatting me up.”

She smirked, “It’s not just me then?”

“No. I couldn’t get away and he said, ‘Have you seen my impression of a one eared elephant?’ I had no idea what he was on about, so I shook my head. With that he pulled one of his trouser pockets inside out and started to undo his flies. I understood then and before he could expose himself–whether he would have done or not, I have my doubts–that he’d embarrassed what he thought was a young woman, meant he’d achieved his aim. I left the party moments later.”

“A one eared elephant? I don’t get it, Mummy.”

I couldn’t believe it, no one could be that naíve could they? It appeared they could be. I stood in front of her. “Pretend I’m a bloke–okay?” She nodded. I pulled out my jeans pocket.

“Yeah, where’s the elephant?”

“It’s coming, this is the ear, okay?”

“Okay,” she still looked bemused.

I unzipped my flies, and pretended to fish about in my knickers to pull something out and the penny dropped.

“Oh shit, that is just so unfunny,” she blushed smirking.

“My feelings entirely.”

“You didn’t meet the guy again?”

“Yeah, he didn’t recognise me, he was pretty well three parts to the wind at the party. Besides, he only taught me for a term.”

“He was a lecturer?”

“Yeah, in biochemistry. He got some girl on his main course pregnant and her parents made such a fuss, he resigned and went abroad somewhere–Canada or Australia–can’t remember.”

“What a twat?”

I nodded, but the world is full of them, so avoiding them is sometimes difficult.