The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1928 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“So, Danny’s got a girlfriend, what’s so unusual–some bloke in Japan married his mobile phone.”

They all thought that was even funnier than an adolescent boy being attracted to adolescent girls. They still had all that to come, and it would be interesting to see which sex, if any, they found attractive. All the girls flirt with their dad as one would expect, but that won’t necessarily mean they won’t prefer girls as their bed mates once they get a bit older. Pubescent girl often have crushes on other girls, then grow up to be heterosexual women, boys the same–have crushes on other boys then go on to date and marry girls. Life is about experimentation. Without wishing to seem repetitive, if you remember, I thought I was asexual, then seemingly awoke from my neutrality after a kiss from Kevin, to subsequently fall in love with Simon and in lust with several men since–although I’ve done nothing about it, nor intend to do so, unless something happened to Simon or we broke up for some reason.

In some ways it’s pathetic that I’m terrified that I’m not female enough for him because I can’t have babies; and he’s terrified that I’ll leave him for whatever reason he considers a threat this week. Actually, I’m the neurotic one, so perhaps that’s a bit of projection.

“Did some bloke really marry his mobile, Mum?” asked Danny.

“It was either that or his computer game, I can’t remember now.”

“Weird or what?” he said.

“Different cultures have different values. It wouldn’t be allowed here, one can only marry the opposite sex at the moment, although the government is looking to change that, but is making a total fudge of it.”

“I wike fudge,” Meems licked her lips.

“It isn’t just the sweet, Mima, it’s also a word which means a total mess, so that in the end nothing useful comes out of it.”

“The priest was saying that same sex marriage was an abomination in God’s eyes,” offered Livvie.

“I wonder how he knows that,” I said, thinking allowed.

“Priests have a direct line to God, Sister Theresa, said so,” Livvie continued.

“Is that why BT is always in such a mess?” I said and regretted it.

“They don’t use a phone, Mummy.” Trish seemed indignant.

“Pity, you could have got me the number and I could have complained about the weather.”

“Silly, Mummy.”

“So what’s this direct line thing then?” I asked wondering if any could explain this cliché, which the church hides behind so often.

“They pray,” suggested Livvie.

I decided not to change the spelling and ask if that was on children, but it would have been lost on them and somewhat biased. “So, you can pray as well. Don’t you have a direct line, too?”

“No,” Livvie replied, “God only talks to them.”

“Is that what they say?” I asked feeling an argument coming on.

“Yes,” agreed Trish.

“They are mistaken. If there is a god, and you all know I don’t think there is; but if there is one, he would talk to anyone who listened. Priests have long told these fairy tales that they held the only way to God, yet according to Jesus, only those who went through him could contact the father, and I believe if you pray to Jesus you are supposed to speak to him.”

I could see bewilderment spreading across their faces. “So were the priests lying?” asked Livvie looking very concerned.

“I hope they were just mistaken.”

“Me too,” added Trish, “I like to pray to Jesus when I’m by myself, and I think He listens to me.”

“I’m sure he does,” I agreed. I’m sure there are many of the priestly class who are genuinely decent people, but there are many who are not, either from their own bias or upbringing, where we become prisoners of our culture. The Catholic church acquired much of its power by claiming that anyone wanting to contact god had to use them or fail, which gave them a monopoly by dint of poor education and superstitious fear held by the population. Nowadays, radical evangelicals are using such power trips to incite hatred and fear in parts of Africa like Uganda.

“Can I have some fudge, Mummy?” asked Mima.

“I haven’t got any, Meems. I was using the term to describe the government’s attempt to bring the church into the twenty first century but it would rather remain in the medieval period, because it could control people’s lives.”

“I don’t think I’d want a same sex marriage,” observed Danny who had remained with us despite the teasing earlier.

“They’re not compulsory, but don’t you think that if two people love each other, regardless of their sex or gender, they should be allowed to state the commitment publicly by getting married?”

Danny had to think about that, “Yeah, course they should, after all who else’s business is it?”

“Bravo, young man, my thoughts entirely. And why should it be the concern of the church?”

“Because marriage is for the prostitution of children,” said Trish, “it says so in the Bible.”

“I think you mean procreation of children,” I corrected her.

“Wossat mean, Mummy?”

“In their eyes it’s all about making babies.”

“What–sex?” How is it that this young woman is so obsessed with sex–or is that me?

“Yes and no.”

“I thought babies were born after sex?” said Trish.

“Sometimes, but when Daddy and I got married we knew we couldn’t have babies, so does that mean we’re not married?”

“You’ve got us, Mummy,” Trish put her arm round my waist.

“I know that, darling, but we didn’t create you did we?”

“No,” she started to sniff, “Does that mean you’re not really married?”

“We are married and I don’t give a toss what it says in the Bible or Prayer Book. Your daddy and I love each other–that’s why we got married and I hope it’s why you all get married, rather than just to have children.”

“Why do they say it then?” asked Livvie who’d obviously been thinking hard about the topic.

“Because years ago, lots of children made the church very powerful. In places like South America, it still is and they still want people to have more babies even though they can’t really afford them.”

“Why?” asked Trish.

“Because–and this is my opinion–because they practice more politics than theology.”

“What’s the-wossit?”

“It’s the study of god.”

“So priests should do the-wossit not politics?” checked Trish.

“If they did, I’d have a bit more patience with them.”

“Hmm, I think I’ll say that to Fr Montiverdi.”

“I think you’d be better keeping it to yourself for the moment, sweetheart.”

“He doesn’t believe the Higgs boson is the god particle–big dummy.” Trish proclaimed and they all laughed. “He’ll have shock if he finds God is made of them,” she said and laughed even louder.

He won’t be the only one.