The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2484 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“That looks really good, sweetheart,” I observed looking at Danni in her new skirt. It showed off her developing figure nicely, she was possibly going to have bigger hips than I did, but then she started younger on the hormones. I was just fortunate to have an insensitivity to testosterone, which meant I didn’t have a male puberty.

She was playing football tomorrow, so I’d try and go to watch her. Unfortunately I don’t have time to go very often, but when I can I do. Simon had booked a lunch for us at the hotel, a latish one for two o’clock; but then two o’clock is not that late for a Sunday lunch by many people’s standards.

The rain came down in a short sharp shower as the evening drew in. Then as night fell, the showers became more persistent and prolonged. The forecast suggested more rain tomorrow and I was tempted to offer to buy her a wet suit to play in because it was going to be very wet.

The next morning began where the previous day had left off with sheets of rain pelting down accompanied occasionally by a hint of thunder and a few bits of hail. It wasn’t especially cold but then I was wearing a waterproof coat, over-trousers and wellingtons. Under the hood of my coat, I had a hat and my hands were shoved deep in my pockets. The ground was sodden and to my untrained eye looked too wet to play, two teams of chilled looking girls stood waiting for the referee to make a decision.

Simon had agreed to stay at home with everyone except Trish, who was wrapped up like a waterproof mummy, her hands not bound over her body with bandages but withdrawn up inside her sleeves. I suspect she’d pulled them out—her arms that is, and she had them folded, judging by the bulge in her coat, either that or she’d had some miraculous breast growth occasioned by the heavy rain.

“Are they gonna play?”

“I don’t know and I’m not sure the ref is either.” Just then, a few million gallons of H2O precipitated over us and the rest of Portsmouth. The referee, who was now as sodden as a used chamois decided finally to abandon the game. Seeing as they hadn’t even kicked off, it was hardly abandoning anything and they’d probably reschedule it anyway. Portsmouth needed the points only a win could provide but that in itself is a high-risk strategy, and could result in none.

Danni waved to us and went back into the changing rooms, emerging fifteen minutes later with her sports bag. Her hair, which is growing apace these days, was tied back in a scrunchie and the ponytail bounced as she trotted over to us. It rained again as we trudged back to the car, “Bloody rain,” cursed my elder daughter while Trish popped her arms back down her sleeves and then shoved them into her pockets. We ran back to the Jaguar and jumped inside it. Naturally, the rain stopped but the windscreen misted up almost immediately. In the two minutes it took to clear, Danni reminded us that she’d really wanted to play this week.

“Why? Your boyfriend is watchin’, is he?” teased Trish.

“Nah, but they said a scout was supposed to be watchin’.”

“Didn’t see anyone in short pants an’ a woggle,” offered Trish.

“Ha bloody ha.” Danni went to slap her and I vetoed it. “A football scout, dipstick.”

“Didn’t see anyone in football boots an’ a woggle neither,” Trish replied at lightning speed.

“C’mon, there’ll be other games,” said Danni.

“I think you have the potential to play at the highest level.” I offered as a compliment to Danni. She nodded as an acknowledgement of my incredible good taste, while Trish discovered messing about with the front of her coat had caused the zip to jam and she was now trapped in her waterproof. When I announced she’d have to wait for us to get home before I could try to sort it, she got very crabby. I felt like pointing out it had been due to her own fault, not mine, but that would have made things worse. The problem with having a brain the size of a planet that is able to do amazing mathematical calculations or equations is, that such mega-minds can’t usually tie their own shoelaces—far too mundane; whereas those of us with normal-sized cerebra, can. I’ve been doing my own since I was four years old, though it took me weeks of practice to achieve it.

“Who won?” asked Simon as we went into the kitchen.

“The weather,” grumbled Danielle.

“Get this bloody coat off me,” whined Trish, who was still entrapped by her brilliant stupidity.

“What’s the matter with her?” Simon asked indicating with his eyes my zipped up companion.

“The zip’s stuck, can’t you see that?” she fired back at him.

“Pity the one on your mouth isn’t,” he said tartly and she ran off stamping up the stairs as she went.

“Tea?” he asked me as if nothing had happened.

“I’d better go and sort her,” I replied.

“Make her wait, she has to learn her needs don’t have priority over everyone else’s.”

“I’ll go,” offered Danni to which I assented before Simon could prevent her. I was glad she went off so quickly because Trish was likely to destroy the coat with scissors or knife if we delayed, and it wasn’t a cheap one.

I removed and stored my wet weather gear. As I took it off, Simon quipped, “If you’d had a face mask, you’d have looked like one of those people dealing with the ebola victims.”

“If it had rained much more, I’d have needed a snorkel, that pitch was unplayable, even I could see that.”

“But the ref couldn’t?” he checked.

“Apparently not.”

“That confirms my theory that most of them are visually handicapped.” I had to think what he meant for a moment before snorting tea everywhere.

Danni returned for her tea. “Did you manage to free our imprisoned genius?” I asked.

“Yeah, she was trying to undo the zip from the inside, dozy cow. I pulled the zipper thing and it undid straight away.” Which tended to confirm my theory of people with huge brains and no common sense.

“What is she doing now?”

“Reading, I think.”

“Where’s David?” I suddenly registered his absence.

“He’s got the day off which is why I’m treating us to a lunch at the hotel.”

“Daddy as well?”

“I did ask him, but he’s got a frozen curry.”

I suddenly had a vision of him with a chicken curry ice lolly and snorted tea again. Simon rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Go and change, missus, and take Waynetta Rooney with you.”

Thankfully, Danielle found that funny.